


hand over hand.

by YourCityGaveMeAsthma



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Casual Mentions of Death, Depersonalisation(?), Gen, More content creators later on? Perhaps-, Slowly Developing Queerplatonic Relationship, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourCityGaveMeAsthma/pseuds/YourCityGaveMeAsthma
Summary: [ READER INSERT ]in which the story begins in 2017. you're 18, in your first year of college and one of the many who are attempting to help technoblade make bedwars history whilst also attempting to balance your mental health plus your youtube channel.--technoblade is a real person and this story is based off the persona he's made on youtube.if it's announced that i've made him uncomfortable by writing this, i will take it down.also, the timeline isn't COMPLETELY accurate. the streak starts nearing it's end around christmas so i could make cute christmasy things. shut up dont make fun of mecross-posted on wattpad as -YourNewBoyfriend under 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.
Relationships: Technoblade & Reader, Technoblade/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 91
Collections: Technoblade/Reader collection.





	1. Chapter 1

The silence felt deafening, even when surrounded by a world that suffocated my lungs and blasted inside your ears. With every turn there was a new noise to flood your senses and overwhelm your head; thoughts influenced by your newfound paranoia that there'd be enemies lurking in every corner became louder and louder until your feet came to a halt, being lifted from the ground and soaring above the clouds upon the dragon from the abyss as you'd glide over everything and anything that had ever mattered.

The sound you'd heard so many times that it'd become second nature to expect once again vibrated from your headphones, the sound of a new user joining the channel. "That makes eight hundred and forty-six!" Technoblade announced, a smile evident in his voice. The voice call boomed with the loudest cheers that the worn out players could muster, laughs following shortly after.

"And three tired bedwars players," your third, Peyton, had chimed in; their breath was irregular and unsteady, like they'd just gotten back from a run.

"You can say that again," you remarked, your eyes darting to the clock in the bottom left of your screen. _8:46pm._ A heavy sigh escaping you as you log out of Hypixel for the day. "I'm heading to bed."

This was met by teasing boos, with Peyton lightly making fun of you for how early you're going to sleep and Techno bullying you for 'only going to sleep early when he wants to hang out' (it was only because of your different time zones, but it'd slowly developed from meaning anything to being an inside joke)

Talking with the two for another five minutes before saying your goodbyes and leaving the call you're once again left alone, with only the silence to accompany you. Your roommate was out with their partner for their anniversary and had left you alone with some wine in case you'd invite someone over to 'netflix and chill' which you'd promptly mimicked a gagging expression and flipped them off as they left the apartment laughing, making snarky remarks towards their partner's teasing.

You consider getting up to make yourself a snack before heading to bed, possibly just a ham sandwich. Though you get up, you only go to brush your teeth. Your reflection doesn't look like they used to. You can't find it in yourself to look them in the eye. You finish brushing your teeth quickly, rinsing it with water and heading back to your side of the dorm.

It has the bare essentials, just your twin-sized lofted bed and your gaming "set-up" (if you could call one monitor and a laptop that overheats easily as a setup.) with photos of you and your family on multiple different road trips to visit your aunts and uncles, plus your grandparents pinned above your desk.

Looking at the photos upsets you if you stare too long so you hop atop your bed, staring at the ceiling where you and your roommate had glued glow-in-the-dark star stickers to the roof. You'd be heading home for the weekend, since winter holidays were sure to kick in to full swing within the next week. Your setup in your hometown was way better back home- and you'd get to spend time with your family to make new memories.

It gives you something to look forward to as you stare at those stars long enough to be swept away by a temporary escape, finding peace in the time which you sleep.

As the sun peers through the blinds, it lands atop your face; as if the sun itself had taken it upon themself to try to pry your eyes open so you'd hurry up and get on with your life already. Begrudgingly giving in, you sit upright, taking your phone from it's charging port and checking the time. _9:24am_. Your first class of the day would be at eleven, so if you got up right now, had breakfast and threw an outfit together: you'd have about an hour to mindlessly scroll through social media.

Perhaps the day would be as bland like every other, but the routine was the closest thing you had to something that felt normal.

Climbing down from your bed and stumbling towards your kitchen, throwing open your cupboard and rummaging through your food for the bread, carefully pulling it from under the other produce heaped atop of it (and a stray bag of rice that attempted a leap of faith before promptly falling on your foot).

Tossing a few slices of bread into your toaster, you reach into your fridge for an avocado. Slicing it open and setting it down beside your bread plate as you lean against your kitchen counter, opening twitter to see what your followers were talking about today.

 **Pogboy :)** @pogboy ● 1hr ago  
GETTING BORED OF WALLS 2  
💬♻❤  
丨 **BogBoy** @bogboy ● 1hr ago  
丨Replying to @pogboy  
丨I SHOULD FIND A NEW MINIGAME  
丨💬♻❤

It was mostly pretty standard stuff, song lyric chains, (purposefully) poorly edited memes and people making fun of Technoblade and Oakley for not uploading regularly. You eat your avocado toast, it just tastes like green mush with salt and pepper. No matter how many times you switch through apps and refresh the same page over and over again, it's all the same: bland. You check the time again. 10:27am. Your roommate hadn't returned from their date last night, so you'd be walking to your morning classes alone. Sloppily tossing a tote bag over your shoulder, you make your way towards your class; wishing to get it over and done with.

Taking your usual route to your classes, you pass by the stores lining the walkway. The neon yellow corporate supermarket, the abandoned clothes store that had gone out of business years ago in a family dispute that no one really knows the details about, and the family-run coffee shop that's been in the town longer than anyone else can begin to comprehend. They're all wedged together, yet everyday you're drawn in by the aroma seething from it's quaint coffee shop.

The warmth inside is one that cannot be beat. It engulfs you like a weighted blanket, reminding you of nights you'd spend beside the fireplace in your childhood home. The TV playing some mindless Christmas movie, your siblings poking and prodding at the presents sat beneath the tree as your parents were in the kitchen, whipping up some recipe your grandmother had suggested for dinner, laughing as they sang along to whatever songs came up on the radio station.

The music playing from the speakers attached to the corners of the room were distorted and worn down from their use over the years, yet it added to the store's charm. It had to be some sort of jazz music from a few decades ago, outdated and supposed to have been forgotten. Yet it played in the store and completely fit it's design. It was like the store hadn't changed since it first opened and in peak condition.

The sensation is gone all too quickly as you see your close friend standing behind the counter, collecting orders from another patron; handing them a paper bag and a medium-sized cup of coffee with a smile on her face as she waves them off. As they left the store, walking around you, her smile was wiped clean off her face, letting out a heavy sigh.

She was still facing the wall when you'd reached the counter, ringing up the bell. She turned to you, irritation crossed her face before melting away to be replaced with a red tint dusting her cheeks; most likely embarrassment from how she'd almost lashed out at you.

"You alright, Ce'?" You asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "Lookin' a bit out of it there."

"Oh, you're too kind, Y/n," She rolls her eyes, reaching into the cabinet beside her and retrieving one pastry from inside and grabbing another off the serving hatch behind her. A steak pie, your regular, and another pastry that you hadn't seen before today.

It's about as long as your middle finger and as wide as your palm with chocolate is drizzled atop of it. Just from the looks of it, it has to have some kind of filling on the insides. It's too plain to just be what's shown.

"What's this? You're not gonna charge me for it, are you?" You hum as she calculates your total, raising an eyebrow at the young woman.

"Piss off," She huffs, handing the pastry to you. "It's an eclair, my older sister perfected her recipe but it doesn't fit well in her restaurant's atmosphere; so she sent it over to us."

"Ohh," You drawl, peering at the pastry with a newfound wonder. "But are you gonna-"

"Just eat the fucking thing, Y/n." Cecilia deadpans.

The pastry is hardened and tough to bite into. It must've been in the fridge overnight, as the chocolate had set and the cream inside of it had run cold. You almost stop trying to eat it midway but Cecilia urges you to continue. It irritates your gums but you continue to chew on it.

"What's your opinion, oh great taste maker," Cecilia teased, seeing how the taste had made your skin run cold.

"Tastes like shit," You snap at her, taking another bite.

"Oh really? Guess we shouldn't add it to the display then."

"Exactly. Give them all to me instead."

"Oh fuck off."

* * *

After your classes had ended for the day, you returned home.

Curled up on your bed with a blanket lazily thrown over your legs, you contemplate finishing off some essays or maybe do a stream with some other friends of yours, Salem and Oakley; they had invited you to a Borderlands 2 Stream they were planning on doing with another friend of theirs, but you don't feel drawn to either of those ideas, so instead you scroll through your contacts; looking for someone to call.

Aimlessly scrolling through the names, they feel unfamiliar. Of course, there's your highschool friends, your exs and family members but it doesn't feel like it used to. _Amara, Raymond, Cecilia, Uncle Lewis, Vanya... Mom._ You haven't seen her in so long that just seeing those word _'Mom'_ fills you with dread.

Hesitantly, you click onto her contact. There's a photo of her smiling at the camera, inviting you to call her but she doesn't look like your mother. There's something slightly off about how her dimples look, her eyes are different shapes and-

 _"Y/n? Are you there, sweetheart?"_ Oh. Your hand has made your decision for you. Your phone had fallen out of your hands, you couldn't see your own face yet you knew shock had crossed it and your mouth agape with surprise. Her voice hasn't changed, it's still your mother. Your worrying was all for nothing. What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you? What wrong with-

_"Must've been a mistake. I'll call you back later."_

In a hurry, you throw off your blanket, rushing to grab your phone. "No, no!" You say a little louder than you had meant to. Calming your breathing you regain your composure, "I mean, no- I had meant to call you."

You hear her laugh on the other end, before clearing her throat and taking on a stern tone; you can almost feel her smiling at you. _"Took you long enough! Your father and I have been worried sick!"_

Though the call feels like she's scolding you, it feels like home. It feels like you're a kid again who had somehow managed to convince your younger siblings to assist in stealing sweets from the pantry. It's like when your father would chase the four of you around the house whilst the halls were filled with the sounds of laughter and hollering as you tried to hide from the man once he'd found out. His _'i'm gonna get ya! i'm gonna get ya!"_ s echoing off the walls as your mother told you to keep it down, only for the five of you to ignore her until she stomped out from her study to scold you once more.

It excites you and as you lay down hours after the call had ended there's one thought on your mind, the thought that you'd seen be back home making new memories. If you could just make it through the next few days, you'd be able to head home.

* * *

Packing for the trip back home wasn't hard. Hell, you'd only brought the bare essentials the first time when you _came_ to college so there wasn't much for you to take back in the first place. Still you'd gathered what little belongings you had and shoved them into your visibly tattered suitcase with little care of where they landed.

Though it felt like you'd picked the _worst_ day of the week to set off on your ride home. The temperature felt like it'd travelled downwards from Canada just to mess with your plans. The wind bit and pricked at your skin, with the wind kicked and snow was spit from the dull skies as it blanketed the streets with thick sheets.

If there was a singular bright side to the snow, at least your roommate got to cuddle up with their partner in your shared dorm; which they'd sent a photo to you of and lightly teased you for not having a love life of your own. They offered to set you up with a friend of theirs, but you promptly turned them down. You didn't have the time to balance college, a youtube channel, a streaming schedule _AND_ a relationship.

You had learnt from the last time you had such a thing that it was doomed to fail if you tried again, especially so soon.

Traveling through the country alone was difficult no matter the weather. With your car's air conditioner barely working and the hellish amount of driving you'd have to endure just to make it back to your hometown, you grimaced at the thought of the long 'journey ahead of you' (as your younger brother had described it when you'd called him to complain about the distance.)

Settling into the driver's seat and pushing the last of your belongings into the passengers' seat, you were finally ready to make your way to your hometown. Even beneath your thick winter jacket, scarf and mittens, small pockets of cold breeze managed to ghost your skin; sending small chills up your spine every now and again.

Reaching for your phone, you put on a playlist you'd specifically tailored for when you were crossing the country; except it was meant to be played with friends. When Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE starts playing, there's no one else in the car to belt the lyrics with you.

It properly dawns on you that this is going to be a long ride.

* * *

You'd made stops in discrete areas to take naps in between states and stopped in at supermarkets to grab snacks (even if you didn't eat them, the fact they were there was comforting enough for you.) By time you pulled up into your parents driveway it was late into the evening, but the lights were still on. You could see the fireplace was raging and some "traditional family classic" was playing on the TV hung above the mantelpiece. You could see the faint glow of christmas lights- probably hanging from the tree your parents put up every year- and there was a reawakened childhood hope that there would be presents beneath it for you to open on Christmas day.

You put your jacket back on, as your heater had started miraculously working about three quarters into the trip. Making your way to the front door, you hear shuffling inside accompanied by the muffled yelling of one of your younger brothers as laughter erupted with it. Your hand hovers over the doorbell, unwelcome thoughts urging you to turn back, saying they probably didn't even want you to come home this year. For a moment you agree with them, but the realisation that you'd have to suffer all over again just to get back to your dorm snaps you out of it. You ring the doorbell.

Once again, you hear shuffling only to be replaced with the sound of footsteps meeting the ground at a fast pace. Inside the house there are calls of your name, followed by giggling and bickering about something to do with hugging you first; now the footsteps have begun moving even quicker. Momentarily, you step back, slightly cowering at the thought that you might get slammed by the door they open it.

The door swings open inwards and you're greeted by your three younger siblings, all of them in pajamas _and_ all of them jumping to hug you ending with the lot of you with your backs to the snow, laughing so hard you fear you've forgotten how to breathe whilst your parents watch on from the doorway, adoring smiles peering down on the four of you as your second youngest sibling, Casey, bolted upright, starting a snowball fight immediately.

"No fair!" The second oldest, Victoria, ducked behind your still rising figure. You would've laughed at her actions had one of the stray snowballs not hit your face, causing you to be the laughing stock in the moment.

Once you'd laughed it off, you regained composure and tried your best to slide out of the line of "enemy fire" as the youngest, Elijah, was now calling it. You had only gotten through making one snowball, already lining up your shot as your father's voice boomed from the doorway. "COME INSIDE! YOU'LL GET A COLD IF YOU STAY OUT THERE FOR TOO LONG, ESPECIALLY YOU THREE WEARING _PAJAMAS_ AND HAVING A SNOW FIGHT IN THEM!"

You understood it for the most part, your parents were rational people but there was a childish want to stay outside and disobey your parents rules, even if you were to get a cold from it. Yet you found all eyes on you, your siblings awaiting what you'd do in retaliation, beady eyes piercing your soul and suddenly you couldn't say no. You let the snowball fall from your hands and wiped the excess snow from your hands as you helped Elijah up from the snow.

"You heard the man," the oldest hummed before throwing the youngest over their shoulder in a comical fashion, a mere 'hup' escaping you before making you way inside the house. You give your parents a peck on the cheek before continuing through the halls, your younger siblings following suit and mocking Elijah who was the most relaxed you'd ever seen him.

The halls are decorated with tinsel, family portraits have santa hats and santa beards covering people's faces. They're sloppily stuck on, Dad must've gotten a bit too tipsy and thought it was the funniest thing in the world. It's sort of endearing that they didn't tear off the stickers though.

The living room's movie is still playing, something about love at christmas time. The Christmas Tree stands tall in the corner of the room, as it does every year. There's presents of all shapes and sizes beneath it. The fireplace roars to life, casting the room in a soft coral hue. Casey and Victoria rush to jump on the bean bags in front of the fireplace, allowing you to drop Elijah down on one of the armchairs with a soft giggle. You sit beside the older two, not focusing on the movie but watching instead how the flames dance in the fireplace.

No one says anything for a long time, not even greeting your parents when they walk into the room and sit down on the empty sofa. The energy lingering in the room feels tiring, yet it feels comfortable. Aside from the odd laugh or two, the world is calm and you feel at peace.

Once the movie's over and everyone's returned to their respective rooms; you hesitate while opening yours. You aren't sure if your family had gone through and changed everything while you were away at college. Hell, maybe they'd taken in some orphan while you were away and had neglected to tell you. To compromise, you'd close your eyes, turn the knob and flick on the lights.

As you hear the lights overhead start up, lighting up the room you finally open up your eyes. The walls are covered in posters you couldn't take to college; polaroids of your friends stuck upon a pinboard, all of which were drawn on with a permanent marker with little notes scribbled at the bottom of them; your setup that looks like it'd been touched once or twice, probably by Casey; your records that had been left to collect dust and your bed already made and ready for you to use.

Disrobing from your thick winter jacket, scarf and mittens, there was a thought that had been slowly creeping upon you the entire drive and whilst you watched that lame hallmark movie. _I wonder if Techno's doing alright,_ you think even while surrounded by those you love.

The thought poked and nagged at you, having reared its ugly head long after you'd settled down for the night. You reach for your phone, opening discord and sending a notification in hopes that would bring your thoughts back a little.

Techno had woken up hours earlier to finish an essay of his that was due before the semester ended, it'd be the last until next semester but it still irked him that he hadn't gotten it finished sooner; though he knows it isn't entirely his fault. With him hyperfocusing on the win streak and executive dysfunction actively stopping him from getting any work done, it was to be expected. A lamp shone upon his notes, whilst he sat at his laptop trying to form the scattered pieces into a cohesive document like it were some puzzle from Hell; though in this case, Hell would be college (which isn't too far off.)

This was the best time for Techno to work, without anyone to bother him whilst he chipped away at the essay. If it came with the price of a good morning, he'd rather give that up instead of letting his grades fall below what he'd already worked so hard to build until this point. 

Looking over the document, it didn't make sense. His eyes darted from his notes to his laptop, he knew there were words there but it was like he couldn't understand them at all. He groaned in frustration, pushing his desk away from him and sliding off from his worn out chair.

He threw himself onto his bed, using one of his thicker pillows to support his head as he retrieved his phone from where'd it'd been charging overnight. He'd done his best to ignore his phone but he gave into temptation quickly, scrolling through social media. Every app he had felt dead as he scrolled through them, most of the jokes he saw were recycled and overused until they were eventually forgotten about.

His eyes had begun to shut, his phone slowly falling from his hand as the other moved his blanket over his shoulder. Though the sound of discords notifications quickly woke him from the trance, his eyes flicker open to see who'd sent the message.

 **Y/u/n:** hey pig boy (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ  
 **Y/u/n:** how's bedwars going?

He looked through his friends' list for a moment to see if anyone else was awake this early, but only you were online. He rolled his eyes at the pig boy comment and hastily typed a reply.

 **Technoblade:** terrible  
 **Technoblade:** my teammates are incompotent fools without u

 **Y/u/n:** sucks 2 b u  
 **Y/u/n:** lol

 **Technoblade:** u wound me y/u/n

A smile ghosted his features as the two continued to talk, with you ranting about your trip home and Techno making fun of you for not going to bed immediately after getting there; leading to _you_ making fun of him for not doing his essays.

He didn't typically talk like this with people from outside his hometown, especially people who he didn't know very well. Yet he found comfort in getting away from his problems for a moment, even if it were only for a minute or two, whilst talking to you.

Maybe he'd make it a habit.

 **Y/u/n:** i hate 2 b a nerd  
 **Y/u/n:** but ive been up for tooo long  
 **Y/u/n:** and like,, i need 2 sleep

 **Technoblade:** hate it all u want  
 **Technoblade:** ur still a nerd

 **Y/u/n:** hate ur guts

 **Technoblade:** hope u die in ur sleep

 **Y/u/n:** gn techno

 **Technoblade:** gn y/u/n

Putting down your phone, you sit upright and swing your legs off the side of the bed, getting up with a _hup_. You walk to your window and bask in the moonlight as you look over your small hometown. It's blanketed like snow, just as everywhere else is; there are no lights on anywhere in the town, but you can still hear the odd giggle or two from your relatives as you brood beside your window.

As you drink in your surroundings, whilst your hometown rests unbothered by the snowy night, there remains a feeling you cannot shake. You wish to yell it from the rooftops or scream it in someone's ear; you want to run up to strangers and find comfort in their arms. Instead, you settle for a hushed whisper that feels _right._

_'I'm home, everyone.'_


	2. home is where the heart is.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader hangin out with their childhoodfriend + their siblings :-)

The town's clocktower has already chimed it's tune for midday by time you awake from your slumber. The sun pours through your window, urging you to get out of bed. Instead, you throw your duvet over your head and try to block out the creaking of the floorboards whenever someone would pass your room. For the most part, it worked at first. You were able to quietly enjoy the winter season surrounded by that which you loved as you grew up. You spent the first few hours of your holidays back in your hometown in a purely serene state.

  
It was ruined all too quickly when you heard your doors hinges creak, followed by hushed whispering and squeaky floorboards that sounded like they'd give out at any second. They carefully made their way across the sea of layers you'd left on the floor after you'd gotten into bed still practically fully clothed. Soon enough they stood at your bedside, not trying to wake you but not exactly trying to be quiet either.

There were faint whispers before you heard the floorboards screech as a new weight crashed down upon you. In an instant, your body shoots upright and the culprit back away; sent tumbling onto the floor as you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach. Laughter echoes off the walls and through the halls as you turn your head to look at who'd awoken you in such a manner.

Peering down over the edge of your bed to overlook the floor, sits your childhood friend amongst the clothing you'd left on the floor. Her hair was lustrous and thick, her coils touching the floor as her spindly dark fingers held onto her stomach so hard she looked like she'd forget how to breathe if it dragged on for any longer. You roll your eyes but a soft smile finds its way onto your lips as you reach your hand out to the woman.

She gracefully accepts, planting her hand in yours as her body calms from it's shaking form. You pull her up forcefully, giving her a quick shock before wrapping your arms around her as she laughs against your chest. Inside her arms you feel the same way you did in Cecilia's family coffee shop yet distinctly different.

She smells of fresh parchment and the dust lining the shelves of the bookstore her parents had inherited when she'd originally moved into your quaint town mixed with the expensive perfume that she bought to treat herself (and had gifted you a bottle as well before you'd left for college. You would spray it whenever you missed her presence.) Instead of Christmas, you think of when the two of you would sit on the roof outside your windowsill in the dead of night; talking about what you'd do in the future or the latest book she'd found that you just _had_ to read.

You're content in her arms, content to stay there for the rest of your days; but she pulls away with an adoring smile as she looks at your face; getting a better look at it after not seeing you in months. _Maybe she'd be comfortable staying in my arms forever too,_ A passing thought. You roll your eyes as you swat away her arms as you get out of bed, your feet slipping into your slippers as you look up at your best friend once again. She's already made her way to your doorway and was now talking with your siblings.

A part of you hesitates, wanting to stay in your room forever and slowly decay into the cushion but a stronger want pushes you onto your feet, stumbling as you walk with them down the halls. An eagerness to see your friends happy outshines your want to stay in bed all day.

You get up and close the door, heading over to your dresser. You toss on a button-up shirt, some beige sweater you probably stole from your father and a pair of jeans. It's comfortable and you're hopeful that you're _not_ going to be dragged anywhere by your close, _trustworthy,_ friend.

You walk out only to be immediately bombarded by Casey and Elijah, the two of them clinging to you like you were attached at the hip. Salem and Victoria chat peacefully behind you, Casey and Elijah as the group of you make your way down the halls. Elijah's questions are rapid and practically incoherent, they enter through one ear and dash through the other; his face is red with his throat becoming dry and hoarse as the questions continue to spurt from his mouth. Casey's questions are plain and simple, asking what your streams are like, who you usually stream with.

Victoria pipes up from behind you in her condescending cynical tone, 'You'd know if you actually watched their streams, asshats,' turning to Salem who jabbed her arm into Vic's side who promptly cried out in mock anguish as Salem rolled her eyes.

'Don't be like that, Vic',' You hum, a soft smile easily gracing your features. Your younger brother and sibling look at you in wonder, Salem making her way to your side whilst Vic huffed and trailed behind you like a ten year old who's embarrassed to be seen with their parents in public.

You thought you were heading downstairs to eat something but Salem hands you a warm paper bag and your thick winter jacket that she'd grabbed whilst in your room earlier. You look at her quizzically but she drags you out the door, your siblings following behind. The cold air hits you like a punch to the face yet Salem remains unbothered.

She hops in the drivers' seat of her small five-seater red car. Your siblings jump in the back, jokingly chanting 'ROAD TRIP! ROAD TRIP!' as they did so. Salem laughs at their antics and gestures for you to get into the passengers' seat.

Buckling your belt, you look up at your house. It's a two-story, beige coloured house with a typical shingle roof, a bay window on the first floor and a shed attached to the left side of the house, it's pretty standard for the suburbs. You can see your mother stressing at her desk in her study on the second floor, the room directly above the bay window. Your father is probably at work, as he always is. You must've been looking rather grim because Elijah reaches over the backseat to rub your shoulder, 'You okay?'

You yawn, rubbing at your eyes, 'Yeah, 'm jus' tired.'

A smile easily finds its way across his face, satisfied with your answer. Salem hums as she puts on some song you'd never heard of before. Playing her dashboard like it was a drum set as she started up the car, moving right arm to steady herself as she reversed out of your driveway. You open the bag, your favourite pastry inside of it- You look up to Salem to thank her but she light-heartedly presses a finger to your lip

The drive through town is peaceful, Salem pointing out small locations where you'd made so many memories, that time you'd spent an entire summer looking for some hidden treasure related to a riddle the towns' founders had left behind; the time you two had gone on one of the festivals that were traveling through which had spun the two of you so fast you felt sick for the next three days; the first time the two of you met. It would've been sweet had it not been for Elijah and Casey muttering phallic things under their breath, earning them both a harsh jab in the side from Victoria.

Salem's freehand rests atop of yours, she's always like this. You roll your eyes, intertwining your fingers together as she sings along to the song playing on the stereo; your siblings joining in and eyeing you carefully, like you'd scold them if they swore around you. It's an odd feeling, sitting in Salem's car with your siblings singing along to the radio as you drive through the town. It fills you with an odd feeling of pride.

It's a welcomed change to feeling like a burden wherever you go.

Salem's car finally pulls to a stop a few blocks away from her parent's bookshop, your siblings already piling out of the car before it properly comes to a halt. Salem waves her fist in mock anger once she's gotten out of the car, the four of them laughing as you walk alongside them. There's hesitance in your actions, the lingering feeling of you intruding on their cordial and relaxed atmosphere but Salem grabs your hand and pulls you up beside her.

You feel out of place beside them, slowly zoning out from the conversation but they don't seem to mind. They continue to talk, their presence fills you with a sense of warmth and that only furthers when Casey relaxes against you, using your shoulder as a place to rest their head. ('Casey, doesn't that make you uncomfortable-' 'No way man, I'm literally at peak comfort right now')

Entering the bookshop, it hasn't changed since you'd left- _of course it hasn't, it hasn't changed since Salem moved to town,_ you think- yet it feels off just standing in there. The first time you'd gone in there was over a decade ago now, it should've changed at least a little bit by now. The aisles still remain the same, dust lining them (you assumed since business hadn't been doing too hot, not that it matters since Salem's parents were loaded and they mostly kept the store for the fact it's a family heirloom at this point)

Salem's parents had moved out of the bookstore with Salem's younger sisters and had let her use it as her home. There's books and papers scattered in a few places and Salem rushes to pick them up, Elijah joining her. 'So sorry for all the mess, I've been so busy I-'

'No need, it's fine, really-'

'But-'

Chuckling lightly as you watch the scene, you feel a vibration in your pocket. You fish it out, not realising that Casey was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

 **technoblade:** hey nerd  
 **technoblade:** come play bedwars with me

Techno sat at his desk with his laptop and monitor shining down on him, Minecraft still running in the background. His roommate had gone out a few hours ago, so he was free to play without feeling like he'd be judged for doing so. Though his back ached from how long he'd been sat in the uncomfortable leather chair, he pressed on.

He'd spent the day mindlessly playing Bedwars with his usual party but he missed your little jokes you'd say in party chat whilst the four of you mowed down the other teams, missed your keyboard smashes when you'd accidentally slip off the edge and the 'F's and 'BRUHH' that would follow after it.

Maybe he just missed your presence in general, but he'd never admit it outloud. Especially not to someone he's only known for a month.

 **y/u/n:** can't  
 **y/u/n:** hanging out with my friends

 **technoblade:** wow  
 **technoblade:** thought i was your friend </3

 **y/u/n:** u are  
 **y/u/n:** you're just not as high on my list  
 **y/u/n:** as they are ('▽'ʃ♡ƪ)

 **technoblade:** OUCH

He knew you were joking but that didn't stop the odd pain in his chest. He shook his head as if to shake off the feeling, scoffing softly. He couldn't possibly care so much about the opinion of someone he barely knew.

He heard the door click from behind him, swiftly placing his phone down and closing Minecraft; opening his Google Docs to feign doing his essays. '████? You good, dude?'

'Course I am!'

You frowned at your phone, looking at your message that's been left on delivered. You felt a pair of eyes on you, but you didn't care for it until someone looked over your shoulder, 'Oooh, are we keeping you from your _special someone?_ ' they mocked, earning a sharp elbow in the stomach from you.

* * *

Salem dropped the four of you off at home around six in the evening, the sun had begun to set as the winds became wild and ravenous. You waved out as she drove off. Casey and Victoria already turned around as Elijah dragged you with them to the living room. They started talking about some show they'd watched a while back, nudging you whenever they'd get into a disagreement to give your _"obviously superior opinion"_ (said by Victoria, who got flipped off for her attitude.)

Their chatter is just background noise to you at that point, staring at the mantel and gazing at the christmas decorations around the room. You abruptly get up from your chair, once again all eyes are on you. They remain on you even after you've left the room, making your way upstairs with two pairs of footsteps following after you.

They ask you questions so you assume it's Casey and Elijah, even though their voices sound nothing like the way they did five minutes ago. You shoo them away with your hands, reaching into your closet for the old webcam you used before coming to college. It's on the top shelf, seven feet off the ground. It's high up and difficult to reach. You turn to grab the chair sat inside your desk- it's worn with age and will _definitely_ be replaced with a more comfortable one during your stay at home- dragging it to the closet and retrieving the camera from atop the shelf.

It's like you're blacked out and for once your mind is no longer a string that has been interweaved and twisted to the point where you can't untangle it but instead a nice and narrow road, one that is impossible to divert from and comfortable to walk along.

Though you're not walking, you're sprinting down the highway like there's something awaiting you at its end. Your mind races, and you feel that your head is five steps ahead of you. You feel you can't snap out of it, simply letting your body guide you instead of your head.

Time passes quicker than you expect. When you come to, snow pours in large clumps with clouds that block out the moon as you sit by the fireplace with your siblings standing beside you at one of the tables you'd seen your parents use for when your extended family would visit. Casey and Elijah were poking fun at Victoria for trying to perfect her Gingerbread house, lining the decorations perfectly as the box instructed as the two's Gingerbread houses were on the brink of collapsing, frosting graffiti on its sides ( _'time is a social construct'_ paired with the lovely _'love doesn't exist'_ beside it)

The christmas lights shine brighter than they had hours earlier, the tree looks like it'd grown several feet, the roof had raised four stories and the walls that felt like they were inching in on you; all of it disoriented you, taking a slight step back and resting your head in your palms. Elijah and Casey are too busy fighting about whose house looks better, sabotaging their respective counterpart's gingerbread house to notice your distress but Victoria quickly rushes to your side.

'Hey, hey,' You feel her hands on your shoulder, one of them rubbing up and down the sides of your left shoulder in an attempt to soothe you. Her voice is gruff, like she hadn't drunk enough water that day, it irritates your ears and you flinch away from her touch.

You hear her hair whip around to the armchair your tripod is propped up against. You see that there's a microphone attached to her earlobe and near her mouth whilst she looks at the camera, she moves in front of you and shuts off hers and your microphone. You move back slightly but she holds her pinky to yours, she's slightly taller than you but crouches to meet your eyes.

Her gaze is softened and relaxed, unfamiliar to you as she normally only gave you cold glares. She steadies you and you fall into her side, relaxing against her broad shoulders. She absentmindedly draws lines on your back in an attempt to help you come back, Elijah and Casey's laughter in the background is the thing that finalises your return.

It's the same living room. The christmas lights have dimmed, the tree rises to the height of the tv atop the mantelpiece with the roof not far above it and the walls are no longer collapsing in on you. Victoria's expression is the first thing you properly see, her face of concern sends a sharp pang of guilt through you. She'd obviously noticed how your dazed smile had fallen from your face and been replaced with a soft frown.

'Are you alright?' She asks softly, her fingers retracting from tracing lines on your back. You nod, attempting to give her a weak smile only for it to come off as a grimace. She's hesitant to let you go but she moves out of your way, letting you go to your makeshift streaming setup.

As you walk past, you look over at the table you and your siblings had been working on, in your disoriented state you hadn't realised that Casey and Elijah had torn apart each other's gingerbread houses, with yours being destroyed as collateral damage. They'd left a small note with _'sorry y/n_ ('▽'ʃ♡ƪ) _'_ written on it, you roll your eyes but snicker at the sight.

You sit down at the chair your parents had lent you from the dining room, you switch the perspective to show you sitting down, with Victoria, Casey and Elijah all arguing about some miniscule thing past your seat. You briefly skim the chat, it'd been put in follower-only mode earlier on (by your mods, you guessed.), 

**user** **27495** **: when are you streaming bedwars next?** **  
****y/u/n-cult: are you alright? what happened earlier?** **  
****💎 technoblade: spending the holidays with your family, what a nerd** **  
****user** **07382: can you stream with salury again?**

 **  
** **PINNED;** **  
** **🗡✔ judgeoakley96: Don't worry, everyone. Y/u/n is okay, they're just tired and will probably be ending stream soon** ♡ • **14 minutes ago**

You chuckle lightly before taking a sip of the water bottle that's been left beside the streaming setup (you're unsure if it's yours but no one's yelled at you for drinking it so...) and let out a tired sigh. You'd definitely be up late tonight too, especially since you'd only gotten out of bed because your family had interrupted your time relaxing.

You shake your head in an attempt to shake off how the vibe you'd created earlier and any lingering feelings from your disoriented state, picking your microphone up and holding it close, 'Thanks for coming out to the stream today, chat!' you hum, your eyes skimming over the chat as it explodes into a blur of byes, pleads for you to keep streaming and people asking for your siblings socials.

'I wanted to try out somethin' new, sorry if the stream was a bet hectic-' you go to apologise but Casey pops up into frame and yells into the microphone, 'CHAT! DON'T LET THEM APOLOGISE, WE'LL NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT.'

 **user32521: rip headphone users** **  
****user48507: someone tell me when elijah and casey start a twitch channel, i'd pay them my entire salary for carrying this stream**

 **[this message was removed by moderators]** **  
****user17093: ^^**

Clearing your throat and fidgeting with the collar of your shirt. You force yourself to move in a more animated, lifelike way instead of your stiff form throughout the entirety of the stream. You look through those you're following, seeing that someone from the group channel Salem is a part of. They're streaming some mindless first person shooter game.

You go to raid them, saying goodnight to your stream as you watched the number of those who were going along with the raid slowly decline. 'Goodnight, chat!' You say as your end card starts playing, turning off your webcam and muting yourself until the raid has gone through.

Sighing heavily, you push yourself away from the table, already making your way to your room. Elijah and Victoria are still arguing but Casey's lost interest in it, they follow after you. You're halfway up the staircase when they ask, 'Aren't you gonna join us for dinner?'

 _Right,_ You think.You'd forgotten that your family had an annoying ritual of all sitting around the dining table and talking about what had happened to them that day. You could almost hear your parents obnoxiously loud laughs as your grip on the wooden railing tightened.

'I'm just... gonna head to bed for tonight, Casey,' you give them a weak smile and move to continue up the stairs. The hallway that was covered in family photos you'd thought was endearing lastnight now felt like they were judging you from beyond the grave, mocking you just as they had whilst they were alive.

Casey is left at the bottom of the staircase, a frown on their face and a sense of dread looming over them. The sound of Victoria and Elijah's laughter feels hollow as they watch you walk down the second floor's hall, 


	3. dont worry about me.

That had been on November twenty-sixth.

All Techno had wanted was to talk with you, the thought of it had bugged him for the past three days. He'd tried to start a conversation but he wasn't exactly.. _good_ at doing so. Even though most of his day was consumed by his work, he still tried to keep in contact with those he considered close.

14:39, 27/11

 **technoblade:** heyyyyyyy

Every part of his brain tried to rationalise, working overtime to assure him that you had probably been busy; He was busy too! It's not like he expected you to answer him immediately, but small ideas began to seep through. Slow, creeping thoughts that hadn't been as prominent earlier but seemed to poke and pick at his typically stable, _reasonable_ mindset.

18:04, 29/11

 **technoblade:** halllloooooooooooooooo  
_read_

Perhaps you didn't want to be around him as much as he thought you had.

 **Y/u/n** _@y/u/n_ _  
_ evening stream babeyyy  
Twitch.Tv/██████

💬127 ♻463 ❤3.7k  
November 30.

丨User1 _@user1_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n  
_丨We're getting so much content 👀👀  
丨💬6 ♻ ❤32

丨User2 _@user2_  
丨 _Replying to @y/u/n and @user1  
_丨doesn't it worry anyone else that they're doing streams so frequently?  
丨💬13 ♻ ❤7

丨User3 _@user3_  
丨 _Replying to @user2, @user1 and one other.  
_丨We should just be grateful we're getting streams at all  
丨💬2 ♻ ❤18

丨User2 _@user2  
_丨 _Replying to @y/u/n  
_丨heyy!! i'm really happy that you're doing all these streams but please  
丨remember to take care of yourself :)) <3  
丨💬24 ♻ ❤15  
丨User4 _@user4  
_丨 _Replying to @y/u/n and @user2  
_丨Why would they be streaming if they weren't doing well (¬_¬ )  
丨💬3 ♻ ❤42

You sat at your desk, your back hunched over in the very manner your parents had told you that wasn't good for your health. You'd spent the last few days in your room, away from your family. You could tell they _obviously_ didn't want you around so you'd hidden away in your room.

The only time it was empty was when you went to shower or sneak a meal whenever you were _sure_ no one else was awake. Even when you sat in your room, it still _felt_ empty; devoid of life and all the things that'd made it special when you were a teenager.

Your walls were stripped of the posters you'd once taken pride in having hung upon the walls. The polaroids stuck to its pinboard haunted you of the times you'd felt whole, the small sharpie drawings served as a constant reminder when you'd properly kept in contact with your highschool friend group. Your records loomed over you, the task of actually listening to them after _not_ doing so for the entirety of your trip at home made it seem all the more daunting to pick them up. Your bed lay unmade, your blankets scattered and half of the things you had found on it during your first night at home along with them.

Your setup was the only thing you found comfort in during those moments. You were able to record mindless little videos with Salem and some of her close friends without a second thought to it. Your editors would work diligently to make sure your upload schedule wouldn't be ruined.

It felt all too easy.

Dread fogged your vision like a heavy morning mist. Your channel was doing fine, you found sanctuary in making videos with your friends; it was only furthered by those who'd say they loved your content, saying it made their day. It grew to be unhealthy, like an addiction. You couldn't get enough of how your mood would boost whenever you'd see someone talk about how you and your friends' personalities complimented each other perfectly, how the sun shined a little brighter when you heard laughter on the other end of the call.

But you could not shake the feeling that things would eventually go downhill. Of course all good things would eventually come to an end, but you couldn't stomach the thought; even when you managed to make the tiniest bit of process, it felt like your mind turned against you, having you assume the worst of things. That one day you'd look at your channel and see that which would soon become a husk of what had once been your pride and joy.

Though the sounds in your headphones were ones of maniacal laughter and the desperate cries of your friends (with the distant noise of explosives set alight) your mind felt disconnected from the action. The sound of your discord DMs being _figuratively_ blown up drags you from the sensation, seeing that Techno had messaged you again.

21:51, 30/11

 **technoblade:** y/u/n?

 **y/u/n:** hey hey heyyyy!!  
**y/u/n:** sorry, i've been busy o(￣┰￣*)ゞ

 **technoblade:** yeah, busy with ur other friends smh

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of your forehead. You hadn't forgotten to respond to his text for _that_ long, had you?

 **technoblade:** i mean that jokingly btw lol

 **y/u/n:** DASIHADJASD  
**y/u/n:** anyways, what are u hiyyin me up for  
**y/u/n:** hittin*  
**y/u/n:** u miss me or smth 👀

Techno scoffed at his phone. To say he cared for you wasn't entirely incorrect but you weren't someone he just wanted to be casually friends with.

The bond he wished to have would be simplified, _belittled,_ if it were to be described with words.

 **technoblade:** disgusting  
**technoblade:** never assume i care about anyone ever again

 **y/u/n:** so u don't care about me  
**y/u/n:** pain 💔

 **technoblade:** good  
**technoblade:** you deserve it

 **y/u/n:** ASDIHSDSDJA  
**y/u/n:** TECHNO????

Techno smiled down at his phone, quickly rolling his eyes as if you were in the room with him. He'd meant to talk to you about some video idea he had for a collaboration but with how busy your schedule had suddenly become, it felt rude of him to butt in; especially when you were streaming with your friends.

Speaking of friends...

'Y/N!' Oakley cried out as his avatar ran up to yours, a close friend of his; Jasper (the one you'd raided the other day), trailing close behind him with a shimmering diamond sword held in their hands. You had completely forgotten about the fighting going on between your friends, having picked up your phone and consequently forgetting about your surroundings.

Oakley's equipment was damaged, his sword snapped in two; the blade having been abandoned amongst the grassy battlefield with the hilt still sat in Oakley's hands, like it'd regrow its blade if he waited long enough. His armour was beaten up; his pauldrons sliding off his shoulders, gauntlets retracting from his hands, poleyn having fallen off with that which it'd encased gathered amongst the sod.

The man was worn-out, his helmet looked to be suffocating the poor fellow; Jasper's approach quickened, the distance between them rapidly closing in. They wore the same armour as Oakley, though theirs is in pristine condition; through the slit of their helmet, you can spot their ruby eyes. There's a wild look in them, a sinister madness suspending you in a petrified state.

Oakley trips over his feet, sending him face first into the fields. His limbs twist awkwardly, a crisp _POP_ sounding through the air as a scream was involuntarily ripped from the man. Jasper was quick on their feet, noticeably speeding up when they'd seen Oakley fall over himself.

Desperately reaching out to you, eyes glistening with tears and small sobs escaping him, Oakley had never been at a lower point; at first you wanted to mock him. Perhaps you would've, had it not been for the lunatic driven mad with bloodlust charging at you and without intent to stop.

You reached for your sheath, retrieving a diamond sword that- though it did not shine like Jasper's- would do the trick. Jasper charged at you with their sword above their head, wielding it like a bat and leaving their chest without any defense.

In a blur, you duck as Jasper slashes towards you, grazing your shoulder and narrowly missing your neck. Your feet toss you off balance, the mud shifting beneath you before plunging the sword into their chest; striking right beneath their breastbone.

Their corpse dissolves into a pile of items, you hear a string of curses muttered under their breath through your headphones. You snicker at the reaction before Jasper mockingly began to impersonate your online persona ('Look at me, I'm Y/u/n! I kill my friends for- OW!' 'Shut up, Jas'!')

You sounded happy, a bright smile evident in your voice before shifting into fear as he watched you fall into a lake whilst being pursued by some streamer he hadn't heard of before- Salury? He'd have to check them out later- followed by your screams and their maniacal laughter sputtering out of the old speakers from his monitor.

He wanted to be content just watching you be happy.

He wanted to _be_ the reason you were happy even more so.

23:49, 30/11

**technoblade:** psssstttt  
**technoblade:** wanna make bad decisions  
**technoblade:** *for our sleeping schedules  
**technoblade:** with me

 **y/u/n:** you had me at bad decisions

He chuckled at your reaction- there was a distant thought that he'd expected you to reply like that. 

**technoblade:** LMAO  
**technoblade:** ok then  
**technoblade:** play bedwars with me B))

 **y/u/n:** mmmm  
**y/u/n:** idk chief,,,,  
**y/u/n:** u really willing to risk ur bedwars streak for me 👀

 **technoblade:** perhaps 👀👀  
_read_

He wanted to delete it as soon as he sent it. It was a 'heat of the moment' thing but it wasn't exactly _wrong._ Sure, if he continued with the win streak, he'd feel accomplished for like... what, a week or two? Maybe he'd forget about it all together after a month or so. But if he got to hang out with you- maybe you'd become good friends, _maybe_ he'd actually have someone who'd do dumb shit with him whenever he couldn't sleep.

Someone who'd be there for him.

 **y/u/n:** LMAOOO  
**y/u/n:** ok bitch  
**y/u/n:** don't blame me if u lose ur winstreak

 **technoblade:** WHATTTt  
**technoblade** i thought you were a pro at this game smh

 **y/u/n:** you're right  
**y/u/n:** i'm gonna purposefully throw  
**y/u/n:** so i can take your record 💛

 **technoblade:** well now you're just being mean

[ Y/u/n has invited you to join their party!  
You have 60 seconds to accept!]

 **[Party] Y/u/n >** lmaooo  
**[Party] Technoblade >** i hate you smh

* * *

Itching at the piece stuck to your ear, you almost forgot about the wool appearing beneath your feet. You were approaching blues' base quickly, seeing the team's players scramble to protect the bed. One attempted to build up towards you, only to plummet into the void; _a misstep that cost their life,_ you thought, squinting your eyes at your competitors.

One was desperately placing wool blocks over their bed as if it'd save them, another was waving their sword at you like it'd scare you off if they did so for long enough (it didn't though) and the last was continuing from where the other had fallen into the abyss.

Your earpiece shifted from green to blue, Techno's voice crackling through the static, 'Y/u/n,' his voice was sickly sweet, you cringed at the sound, 'Where are you?'

You pressed your index finger to the piece, 'I'm at blues' base-' small _'cool, cool'_ s sputtered into your ears, 'what have you done now?'

Techno looked over the angry mob of competitors building towards their base, 'So... I cannot confirm _nor_ deny that I pissed off the yellow team,' He sheepishly admitted.

On the other end of the line, he heard the sigh of his teammate hiss through the earpiece, 'Well, _I_ cannot confirm nor deny that I was under the impression I was playing with the _best_ minecraft player in history.'

You were mocking him.

'Shut up,' He laughed, instinctively turning to hit your shoulder, only to realise you _weren't_ there and were- in fact, still at blues' base. He probably would've spent the rest of the match gobsmacked had it not been for the sound of explosives blasting in his ears.

He rushed to the scene, jumping down from atop the roof of your generator. There was a huge hole in your bed, like someone had taken a bite of it without finishing the rest. Wood and wool stood strewn around the remains of your pitiful bed defense. He thought his winstreak was done for.

Until he saw the top of a certain black block poking out from within the bed defense.

Your third, Salem, had been on defense. Though she'd gone off to destroy yellows' bed, Techno silently thanked her for laying down the obsidian layer.

**[ BLUES' BED WAS DESTROYED BY Y/u/n ]**

blueplayer2 was killed by Y/u/n **FINAL KILL!**

Y/u/n was killed by blueplayer3

yellowplayer1 was killed by Technoblade

yellowplayer2 was killed by Technoblade

Technoblade was killed by yellowplayer3

**[ YELLOWS' BED WAS DESTROYED BY CringeSalem ]**

CringeSalem fell into the void

yellowplayer3 was killed by CringeSalem **FINAL KILL!**

Your armband lit up with an amber hue radiating from it, the opposing teams accusing the three of you of cheating over the shout option. Technoblade and Salem taunted them, saying that they most definitely _were_ cheating. You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to react to the weak accusations of other teams.

A small feeling of pride welled up in your chest, _at least your team was good enough to be considered inhuman._ (Although, Techno claimed to be an anime protagonist so he practically was inhuman.)

Picking up some iron from the generators at your base and exchanging it for wool from the merchant, you hummed along to some song you'd heard them playing in the waiting room. It was a good distraction from your head, thoughts racing around in it without any pace or rhythm.

There were chants coming from one direction, in your head they appeared as a thirsty mob, demanding the blood of your enemies in a chalice for you to drink from whenever you felt the urge. Another was the letter E, it simply manifested as them whispering 'E's into your ear. Others were screaming, 'INCOMING' but you were certain that there was nothing coming towards your base.

Throwing some gold from your ender chest to the merchant in exchange for dynamite, you walked outside of your base. There was someone from green team building towards you, but they were shot off by Salem with an arrow to their dominant leg, sending them tumbling to the void.

Pressing your earpiece, 'Nice shot!'

There was a red blip from your armband,

**CringeSal > <3**

Smiling softly, you typed back.

**Y/u/n > <3**

**Technoblade > cringe** **  
** **CringeSal > homophobe smh  
** **Technoblade > .  
** **Technoblade > I WAS JUST TRYING TO GET YOUR ATTENTION  
** **CringeSal > OH MB**

Techno rolled his eyes though a grin twitched at the corners of his lips. He was to continue with their conversation but was caught off guard by something red that flew by, landing at his feet. He didn't even register what was happening, only jumping out of his skin when he saw just what the red blob was. _Dynamite-_

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact by holding his sword up in a defensive position over his chest. He awaited an explosion that never came, hesitantly opening one eye he sees you standing in front of him, an amused grin on your face as you quirked an eyebrow at him.

'Oh, fuck off.' He huffs, picking up the unlit dynamite from the ground and crossing the wool bridge to middle- the floating island with the emerald generators on it- as he heard your laughter behind him. You let out a yelp, he tried his best not to look back- _to stay focused at the task at hand-_ but curiousity got the best of him. Salem had shot you with an arrow, a smug look on her face as you angrily waved your fist at her; like an enraged mortal yelling at an untouchable god.

He sighed heavily, turning back to middle; making his way over to greens' base.

The middle island had been abandoned like a ghost town, not a single soul in sight. He heard his armband blip, seeing that red names were appearing in the killfeed. _Good,_ he thought to himself, taking an invisibility potion from his back pocket, guzzling it down. _This'll be over quickly._

If you squinted hard enough, you could see the construction of Techno's woolen bridge. Green teams' players desperately scrambling to protect their bed, just as blue had. Speaking of blue, the rest of the sorry excuse for a team had gone down without much of a challenge, the first once again slipping into the void without your interference, with you jumping the third when they weren't looking; their blood now spilling off the edge of the island that was once their base.

The second the final player had given themself up, the island began to crumble. The plants on the island that had been a vibrant green moments before turned to a pale yellow. The trees shrinking in on itself like it hadn't been watered in years, left to die. Iron and gold stopped spitting out from the generator, stray pieces strewn around the abandoned base.

 _Another teams' dreams destroyed,_ you thought to yourself, a sinister pride bubbling to the surface in that moment. Your mind wandered, not paying much attention to anything until you heard a loud explosion behind you.

**[ GREENS' BED WAS DESTROYED BY Technoblade ]**

greenplayer1 was killed by Technoblade **FINAL KILL!**

greenplayer2 was killed by Technoblade **FINAL KILL!**

greenplayer3 was killed by Technoblade **FINAL KILL!**

**[ Green Team Has Been Eliminated! ]**

Glancing over to your armband, you let out a relieved sigh. Of course you didn't have to worry about him too much- he was _The Technoblade_ \- but you couldn't help it. You pressed a finger to your earpiece but no sound went through.

In an instant, you're swept off your feet by a dragon- you seated on its back as the rider; the dragon exploding the map around you.

**YOU WIN !**

Slumping in your chair, you finally break from the immersion of the game. Techno and Salem's cheering blocks out your yawn, the two of them making 'BWAAAAA' and... _other_ loud noises you weren't fully able to form into coherent thoughts.

'WE'RE SO GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES!' Salem shouts, you can almost hear her grin on her end.

'YEAAAAHHH!' Techno goes along, laughing with her.

You adore your friends, you really do, but you're tired- tired from the long day, tired from the thoughts that convinced you that everyone hated you, tired from yourself.

You lightly chuckle, 'Mhmm... I'm gonna- head off for the night, lads-'

There's a twinge of hope that they'll ask you to stay, that they'll prove they do want you around.

It never comes.

The two say their goodnights and you're left in darkness, staring at your monitor with a soft frown on your face


	4. quick a/n !!

i know i don't have much of a platform, but if you could please spread around these carrds;

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

https://signatures.carrd.co/

https://dotherightthing.carrd.co/

https://blackmentalhealthmatters.carrd.co/

https://issuesintheworld.carrd.co/

and these petitions + threads!

https://www.change.org/p/demand-justice-for-casey-christian-goodson-jr?recruiter=867969419&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_abi&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial&recruited_by_id=f6266180-391f-11e8-9eaa-d19510529412

https://bailproject.org/the-bail-project-denounces-police-violence-against-protesters/

https://twitter.com/P0STCARD_/status/1336070260882108419

https://twitter.com/corpsedaisies/status/1336055743603208197

it'd be greatly appreciated !!


	5. the call.

He couldn’t sleep.

Techno had tried every single method his parents had recommended to him; forcefully closing his eyes, imaging sheep jumping over a fence; laying there whilst trying to push out every other thought from his mind; listening to some lofi music his sister had recommended. All of them fell flat, with Techno not being able to get a wink of shuteye.

It’d been three days since he’d last played bedwars with you, Christmas felt like it was just around the corner now. His plan to throw a little online Christmas party for everyone he’d made videos with in the past year now felt daunting as he tried to think of something to do during the stream.

Now Techno laid in his bed, staring up at his ceiling, desperately trying to come up with something fun you’d all be able to do during the Christmas stream. _I should probably stop calling it a Christmas stream, since it’s actually going to be on Christmas eve,_ he chuckles at the thought.

Perhaps he’d do a charity stream- but he didn’t have enough viewers to do a charity stream. _If_ it were a charity stream, they’d raise very little. Though every penny matters, it still would leave Techno feeling very underwhelmed afterwards.

Techno runs a hand through his coral locks, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts. Some of the thoughts yelled at him, telling him to just enjoy hanging out with his friends; others were quieter, trying to provide ideas only to come out as gurgled nonsense he couldn’t understand. 

Pulling his pillow over his head, he tries to block out the ambience around him. The sound of his computer softly whirring, like it were snoring; crickets chirping outside, serenading those around them; the static of the tv a few rooms over- _GODDAMN IT!_

Sending his pillow tumbling off his bed in a fit of frustration, something tumbling off his nightstand in the process. _You always cause things like this,_ a thought pipes up, one that had been humming from within the chaotic background ambience moments before.

There’s no witty comeback, just a tired sigh from Techno as he leans off the side of his bed, reaching for whatever had fallen onto the floor; silently praying that it had not been one of the gifts he’d forgotten to wrap up earlier that day. 

Instead he picks up his phone, cautiously turning it around in hopes that it hadn’t cracked on the cold wood floor. 

The screen lights up in a bright white, temporarily fucking up Techno’s vision more than it already was. There’s a few scratches from before he’d gotten a phone case, but aside from that there’s no cracks in his screen. No visible ones at least.

There’s a few notifications on his phone, some saying that his friends were streaming live on twitch- a few messages from his friends in his hometown, asking what he was doing for Christmas, when they’d meet up again, yadda yadda, _boring_. 

One piqued his interest though.

A message from you, in the chat where you’d talk with your friends- Salem and Oakley. 

He’d recently been added, with you saying that it was because _“it’d be easier to discuss colabs ‘n’ shit”._

**Y/u/n’s super sexc discord server**

_#/𝘽𝙐𝘿𝘿𝙄𝙀𝙎-𝘽𝙍𝙊𝙎-𝙃𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙀𝙎-𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙂𝙊𝙎_

_(reserved for the youtube Bros)_

**y/u/n:** quick it’s time to broadcast my unstable mental health to my friends  
**y/u/n:** im really tired but i cant sleep

 **oakboy:** what if you got off your phone  
**oakboy:** and closed your eyes  
**oakboy:** and eventually went

 **y/u/n:** shut up  
**y/u/n:** shut up

 **oakboy:** to sleep

 **y/u/n:** shut up  
**y/u/n:** shut up  
**y/u/n:** shut up  
**y/u/n:** shut up  
**y/u/n:** shut up

 **oakboy:** watch out bro i’ll have to mute you for  
**oakboy:** _spam_

 **y/u/n:** bootlicker

 **salury:** Y/N!!

 **y/u/n:** SALEMMMMM!!!!!!!

 **salury:** go to bed <3

 **y/u/n: .**  
**y/u/n:** never speak to me again <3

Techno stared at his phone, watching at the three of you continued to argue about you going to sleep. It felt odd, like he wasn’t supposed to be there. 

He _was_ going to make himself known, but…

 **oakboy:** techno???  
**oakboy:** techno r u stalking us rn bro 👀👀

 **salury:** oh bro???  
**salury:** you wanna talk with us bro??

 **y/u/n:** BAHAHAHAHJSJSJSJSJSJS  
**y/u/n:** yeah bro  
**y/u/n:** talk to us techbro

 **salury:** TECHBRO

 **oakboy:** TECHBRO

 **y/u/n:** TECHBRO

 **technoblade:** how do i leave this server

 **y/u/n:** don’t be like that techbro :((  
**y/u/n:** we love u :(((((

 **salury:** yea we love u :((((

 **oakboy:** speak for urselves

 **y/u/n:** de-oped

 **oakboy:** im calling your mother

 **y/u/n:** LMAOOOO

-

 **y/u/n:** wait oakley youre not actually calling my mom right  
**y/u/n:** OAKLEY

Rolling his eyes at the exchange, he moves over to his dms; scrolling through all the people he barely talks to now, looking for your username.

@Y/u/n ◦ ᴀᴋᴀ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴᴇʀ , ˢᵃˡᵉᵐ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᶜʳⁱⁿᵍᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵏⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ᶜʰᵃˡ

**technoblade:** hey  
**technoblade:** are you alright?

**y/u/n:** ooo  
**y/u/n:** what we whispering for fam

**technoblade:** lol  
**technoblade:** i cant sleep  
**technoblade:** so i was gonna ask if you wanna call  
**technoblade:** until u like  
**technoblade:** fall asleep

You didn’t respond for a solid two minutes. 

Techno worried he’d come off as creepy, pushed through boundaries too quickly but no,

 **y/u/n:** you’re so sweet omg :((  
**y/u/n:** idk if i snore tho  
**y/u/n:** might not be very nice to fall asleep to :/

 **technoblade:** it’s probably better than listening to the crickets fucking all night 😀

 **y/u/n:** BASDJASDASJDAJSDJA TECHNO

He grinned, getting the call from you immediately after.

Laying on his back, he listens as you ramble about some anime he’d recommended to you, as well as the video you were planning on recording with Salem tomorrow. As you talk, he imagines a picturesque scene where the two of you are away from your troubles- even if it’s only fiction.

Atop a small hill, a thick fabric beneath the two of you and Techno’s fluffy blanket protecting you from the harsh winds. You’re staring up at the stars, talking just as you are now, with Techno resting his head on your shoulder, drifting off with the occasional nod whilst you spoke.

 _That’s all he wants,_ he thinks, peacefully dozing off to sleep.

* * *

His breathing was the only thing coming through anymore, no more questions leaving your phone. You’d called his name a few times, but there had been no reply.

At first you’d smiled about it, glad that he was now asleep- one less person to worry about at that moment. But what about you?

Your thoughts had slowly grown louder the longer the call went on. Techno never interrupted you while you were talking, only ever asking questions about your interests, seeming genuine as you spoke. 

It felt rude, like you’d talked for so long that it’d bored him so much he fell asleep to get away from you. Guilt grows through your conscience, weaving itself into the stems like it’d always been there.

Whispering fallacies, things that you _knew_ weren’t true- things that your friends, your fans and your own family had proved to you time and time again weren’t true.

But you couldn’t help but believe them.

You couldn’t help but believe that those around you were silently conspiring against you, plotting your fall behind your back, couldn’t help but trust the voices in your head that urged you to run from your town, with only the clothes on your back and escape from society; couldn’t help but think that the knock from your door was some monster from another reality- one that would wreak havoc if you allowed it through.

…

The knock came again, this time weaker; timid almost. Like it were afraid that you would not answer.

No interdimensional monster would be afraid you wouldn’t answer, right? It’d knock insistently, each knock would be louder, maybe there’d be scratching- _snarling,_ awaiting the other side.

Besides, it’s not like interdimensional monsters are afraid of _doors._

Sighing, you get up from your bed- whatever’s behind the door backs away. It swings outwards. 

Elijah stands in front of you.

His cheeks are red and puffed up with water coating them, deep bags under his eyes and his hair in a mess, like it hadn’t been washed in days- _weeks? he can’t of been_ that _bad, right? you should’ve noticed at that point, right?_ you thought.

Gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder, the boy melts into your side. He doesn’t move for a while, but once he does you can hear his soft sobs from him as he clutches the fabric of your shirt, holding on like he would die if it escaped from his grasp.

‘Hey, hey,’ you cooed, rubbing your hand up and down his back, ‘it’s okay, it’s okay, i’m here, i’m here,’ 

Your relationship with your siblings had never been _bad._ They were abrasive at times, annoying at worst and constantly getting into trouble with your parents; but they constantly sought you out, seeking comfort from you. 

At first you’d played board games together, Victoria was the only one who could really play when you were younger and Casey would just throw the board pieces around so you’d have to hide in your room, no matter how loud Casey’s cries were- though once you’d finally set up the game, Victoria would always make up rules so that she’d win ( _“If I pass go before you do then I win, and if you pass go before I do then we keep going!” “But that’s not fair-” “SHUT UP! Whatever I say goes.”_ )

Around the age of ten, Victoria was nine, Casey was seven and Elijah was four- The three of you could play video games, though Elijah screamed and cried that he couldn’t play with you three because he’d usually chew on the controllers. Victoria would pick on him, making it worse so your parents would stick him at _your_ whilst the three of you played.

Elijah would constantly ask questions, pointing at the screen every two seconds and going, ‘what’s that? what’s that!’ though it would come out as gargled nonsense. ( _“that’s the boss we’re trying to beat, eli!” “y/n, stop answering him, it’s just annoying for everyone else-” “that’s a frog, oh and that’s a tree, that’s my pet, that’s Vikky-” “y/n, i told you to stop!”_ )

When he was six, he joined you three. Your parents had bought you a new game, Minecraft, it was called. He’d only ever build houses and cry whenever Casey or Victoria killed him- earning a scolding from your parents. There was a few months where the two of you had an inside joke, calling you his bodyguard because every single time they’d try to kill him you’d appear with fully enchanted gear, the other two screaming as they attempt to run from you.

You’re sure he doesn’t remember it anymore- doesn’t remember the times he’d build houses of gold after he ransacked your chests, doesn’t remember how he’d jumped up and down when he’d first found diamonds, doesn’t remember how tightly he’d hugged the three of you when you helped him beat the ender dragon for the first time.

He doesn’t remember that, though you share the same parents, _you_ were the one that raised him.

Elijah sobs into your shoulder, muttering nonsensical words- the few that you can make out mean nothing to you, ‘Quinn.. Luna.. Roxy..’

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ you mutter, looking back into your room whilst holding him close. You were already planning on staying up, you had a video to finish editing- you’d hope it’d be up noon tomorrow- but this put a damper on things. It’d be more efficient to edit while you- what, sat together? What did he even want from you?

Slightly moving backwards, Elijah’s grasp tightens, ‘Hey, hey,’ you move him with you, his legs awkwardly following, ‘we’re just gonna go sit down okay? It can’t be that comfortable just standing up, right?’ He nods, his head peeking over you shoulder as he tries to navigate through the dimly-lit room.

Once you sit down, Elijah’s grip loosens up slightly. 

He doesn’t say anything- both of you don’t for a long while, none of you can think of anything to say.

There was always Casey or Victoria awake that the two of you could bond over- tease them? make fun of them? You two always bounced off each other whenever there were other people around but when you were alone, the lights dimmed and the cameras off? It was silent, not peaceful, not solemn and most certainly _awkward._

‘..So how’s school?’

He flinches.

 _Touchy subject,_ you note.

‘Uhhh- did anyone new move into town?’ You tried. 

For a second, his expression softens. A small smile easing its way onto his face, ‘Yeah! Some people did move into town, actually!’ 

You nudged him, egging him on for more, ‘Oh really?’

‘Yeah, they moved in after Mrs Lewis..’ He stopped.

Mrs Lewis had lived down the street from you for as long as you’d been _alive._ She was rude and loud, her kids were mostly split images of her- apart from one of the quiet kids you’d only ever heard the other kids gossip about behind you during maths in highschool. He was a freshman that was always described with at least one of the following; silent, calm and calculating- he had all the smarts to be the top of the school, but his attendance was horrible. 

You’d heard he got into a car crash after a mishap with one of his older siblings a few months after you left for college.

According to your sibling, Casey, Mrs Lewis mellowed out a lot after his death. 

You didn’t even know the kids’ name.

‘What’re their names?’ You asked.

‘Tommy and Tubbo,’ Elijah beams, almost like he took pride in knowing them, ‘they’re my..’ he hesitates, like he were worried that someone besides the wind would hear you even though the outside world were dead to those asleep, ‘they’re my friends,’

He’d talk about them- talking about how he’d sort of taken them on as his “proteges”, teaching them how to pull pranks on teachers without them finding out and mentioning things that were _probably_ illegal, but made you pinky promise not to tell. You laughed along, though silently worried for the boys he was “mentoring”

He went on and on, obviously excited that someone was actually listening to what he was talking about. Though his voice eventually grew hoarse and his head began to droop, he leaned onto your shoulder- mumbling something about how much he cared about them until he passed out. 

You let out a sigh of relief. He talked about so many topics that it felt reminiscent of when you’d try and cram all of the knowledge you’d learnt over the past few months into an overnight studying session. You cringed at the thought of him asking to talk about it the next morning.

Picking up the boy just as you had the first night you’d arrived, you carry him back to his room.

The walls are plastered in posters .. He has his own collection of records, though more modern than yours .. A pinboard but the photos that you assumed were once on it all lay at the feet of the stand .. Two monitors with a microphone attached .. a bed that was left in hurry.

After making sure he doesn’t tumble onto the floor in his sleep, you smile softly.

Perhaps he didn’t know that you were the one who raised him, but he’d always have traits that he’d picked up from you- though you hoped that he didn’t pick up a select few.


	6. blow up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y/n uploads a video of them doing the funny and you play video games for a little bit :]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW // CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE .  
> CW // MENTIONS OF PAST TOXIC RELATIONSHIP , MENTIONS OF UNSTABLE MOTHER FIGURE WHILST GROWING UP (?)
> 
> most of this chapter was written in like. one day. please forgive me LMFAO

You finished editing the video shortly after Elijah left the room. It didn't exactly hit you until you were adding on the end card, lost for what you were supposed to end the video with. _A simple slideshow over a voiceover you'd recorded a few days ago would do the trick for the time being,_ you had thought, adding a few finishing touches.

You sent the video through to a friend of yours, Wilbur Soot, to check over the editing- you were sure he'd be awake at this time, seeing as he was eight hours ahead of you- He'd probably be awake at 11am, right?

You're right - for once - and you're greeted with a pleasantly surprised sound from the man. He obviously hadn't expected you to finish so quickly- he made it abundantly clear that he hadn't thought you would finish it nearly as fast as you did too. It was probably in a teasing way, but in your tired state it felt like were talking down to you, especially when he pointed out that you must be _'so sleepy'_ because of it.

Your conversation ended quickly after that, you wishing him a goodnight and good luck with the new channel he had begun with a few of his friends.

Though there was a new burst of energy — _spite,_ your parents had dubbed it when you were growing up (no matter how many times you tried to prove them wrong it was always disregarded as you being stubborn) — So instead of sleeping, you opened twitter and tweeted whatever came to mind. Sure, you'd regret it tomorrow but that was tomorrow!

 **Y/u/n ⭐ ꞏ** _@y/u/n_ ** _  
_** what if vampires dont go out into the sun because  
of all the myths of them like dying. but what if they _can_ go  
out into they sun, but they're all too pussy **  
** 💬43 ♻283 ❤1.4k  
December 18th, 2017.  
丨 **Oakley ☀️ ꞏ** _@judge_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨what if you _can_ eat abestos but all the corporations  
丨hoard the yummy abestos for themselves  
丨💬6 ♻ ❤604  
丨 **Y/u/n ⭐ ꞏ** _@y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @judge_ _  
_ 丨YOU. you get it. this is why you're my favourite.  
丨💬2 ♻ ❤903

 **Y/u/n ⭐ ꞏ** _@y/u/n_ ** _  
_** god knew that if i wasnt mortal i'd of bested  
them in hand to hand combat by the age of   
sixteen **  
** 💬92 ♻1.2k ❤2.7k  
December 18th, 2017.  
丨 **s66 ꞏ** _@wilburzone_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨why let these manmade shackles bind you? shed your   
丨mortal skin and become a god by force and take that which   
丨they love like they have with you  
丨💬6 ♻438 ❤1023  
丨 **Y/u/n ⭐ ꞏ** _@y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @settings66_ _  
_ 丨tempting. thank you, will.  
丨💬20 ♻ ❤1302  
丨 **s66 ꞏ** _@wilburzone_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨♡  
丨💬192 ♻209 ❤1604

 **Salury 🌙 ꞏ** _@jury_ ** _  
_** lemonade is an interesting drink **  
** 💬92 ♻1.2k ❤2.7k  
December 12th, 2017.  
丨 **Y/u/n ⭐** ꞏ _@y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @jury_ _  
_ 丨lemon pee  
丨💬18 ♻ ❤203   
丨 **Salury** 🌙 ꞏ _@jury_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨fuck off  
丨💬2 ♻ ❤493  
丨 **Salury** 🌙 ꞏ _@jury_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨why would you say that  
丨💬23 ♻ ❤302  
丨 **Y/u/n** ⭐ ꞏ _@y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @jury_ _  
_ 丨lemon pee  
丨💬102 ♻ ❤1032  
丨 **Salury** 🌙 ꞏ _@jury_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨STOP IT  
丨💬23 ♻ ❤203  
  


**Salury 🌙 ꞏ** _@jury_ ** _  
_** @y/u/n, i will throttle you  
💬92 ♻1.2k ❤2.7k  
December 18th, 2017.  
丨 **Y/u/n ⭐** ꞏ _@y/u/n_ _  
_ 丨 _Replying to @jury_ _  
_ 丨you will try  
丨💬204 ♻302 ❤4.4k

The banter between you and your friend went on for _hours,_ long enough for people to actually freak out over the two of you hating each other. It got to the point where you had to release a statement before you went off to bed, now worn out from how long you'd stayed up.

Lightly tracing the outline of your hipbone had practically become part of your nighttime routine, even if it embarrassed you to admit such a thing. The idea of meeting your soulmate slightly excited you nowadays. Perhaps there was a chance it wasn't.. _her._ Maybe it'd be someone else instead.

Maybe it'd be someone who actually cared about your feelings, instead of someone who took advantage of your kindness.

Your newest video was out by midday that very morning, after Wilbur carefully examined it to make sure it didn't have any imperfections. It was just Salem, Oakley and yours truly playing around with a voice chat mod in Minecraft VR that you three had dubbed 'The Vlog'. You sincerely hoped that your fans would enjoy it since your uploads would be rather unstable due to your upcoming college assignments

For the first time in weeks, it's like you finally let out a breath you'd been holding in since you'd gotten home. A weight is lifted from your shoulders, even though they still hunch over your desk; quips falling from your mouth quicker than you can think as you stream Minecraft with your friends a few days later, the facecam displaying only your bright grin with your door in the background.

Just it had a few nights ago, a knock sounds from your door, poorly hidden whimpers breaking through the thin wood and echoing off your walls. Your attention snaps to the door in an instant, yelling out to whoever was sitting by it and consequentially forgetting twitch chat was there. 'Come in!'

Elijah's through the door in seconds, his exhausted red eyes glancing at your gaming setup before swiftly placing himself on your bed with a soft _plop._ You gaze at him quizzically, waiting for him to start speaking but there's only silence.

Taking off your headset as your chat goes wild on your second monitor, you cringe at the distant thought of the rumours that'd probably last well into your future streaming career.

'Are you okay?' you ask, it'd be almost endearing had you not been grinning at him and the slight abrasiveness to your tone.

He shakes his head. You swear you can see tears sliding down the sides of his face as he does so.

Your stream ends quickly after that, many people whining about the fact you'd be going into a "content drought" by time you're back at college, very few people respecting your privacy and wishing you a good day but even _more_ people that were prying into your private life, begging you to tell them who was sat in your room.

Sitting down beside Elijah and leaning against the wall to get comfortable, you wait for him to begin talking. He doesn't speak, looking up at you expectantly- like you'd magically fix his problems if he just sat there and didn't say a word for another thirty minutes.

Instead, you reach over the side of your bed and toss him a PS4 controller, 'If you don't want to talk about it, then we can just play video games instead,' you tell him as you stand up from the bed.

A small tug on your arm and a hoarse, timid voice interrupt you, 'Can we.. can we play with Victoria and Casey too?'

'If you can convince 'em to join, sure,' you laughed, returning to your spot on the bed.

* * *

'VIC-!' Casey cried out as they jumped around the beginnings of your base, Victoria following close behind with a diamond sword. They narrowly dodged the enclosure you'd made for your zombie villager though one of the paintings you'd hung on the wall was punctured in the process.

'Get back here, you bitch!' Victoria called out as she continued to chase them, your laughter filling the room as you watched it happen from atop your enchanting area.

Victoria finally managed to get a good shot at Casey by hitting them with a slowness potion, points of glass ripping through their jeans as they tripped over their own legs.

With tears forming in the corner of their eyes, Casey lets out a string of pleads- begs, for someone, anyone, to help them from the cold and unmerciful god that was Victoria, but you and Elijah turned a blind eye as the blade was stabbed into their chest- blood squirts from the wound, soiling Victoria's clean white t-shirt in the crimson liquid before she adds another cut to their chest; the body dissolves into items as Casey respawns at their bed.

You and Elijah share a glance, 'That was graphic.'

* * *

Elijah had returned to the forest to gather more supplies a barn he was building to house the animals you were currently gathering. You'd managed to wrangle two sheep into keep the leads around their neck without much trouble but he'd simply shook his head before murdering them in front of you- much to your horror.

'What- What the fuck was that for?' You asked incredulously as he pulled his sword from the remains of the sheep, their bodies simply turning to mist before disappearing.

'Don't need sheep,' He answered like it was obvious, grabbing the meat that they'd dropped and tucking it into his backpack, 'Get chickens instead.'

'Wha.. Why do we need chickens?'

'To make cakes, duh.'

You raised an eyebrow at the boy in front of you, the boy who'd killed two living breathing animals without a second thought wanted to make cakes.

You wanted to say no, out of spite for what he'd done to your sheep but since he held a diamond sword and you had a measly stone blade, you would not stand much of a chance if he decided you were to join them in the afterlife.

Instead you ask, 'What do'ya need cakes for?'

'I wanna cover our base in them.'

An outraged cry could be heard from said base, 'THE BASE I'VE WORKED SO HARD ON AND YOU'RE GONNA JUST COVER IT IN FUCKING CAKES? YOU FUCKING PRICK, I'M GONNA GRAB YOUR HEAD AND STICK IT BETWEEN-'

'Sounds fun, I'm in.'

'Y/N-!'

* * *

Shortly afterwards, everyone's begun to calm down. Silently working on their own projects (but going out of their way to avoid each other) Casey continues to build upon the base, adding on a small details to give it an extra bit of life- since it did look like it'd been straight up abandoned when they'd first built it whilst Elijah has moved out to the forests, having decided to not cover the base in cakes but the forest floor instead.

Which was where Victoria was headed to gather more wood for the home you were building. It was a simple house, not as fancy as you'd like it to be but it was cozy. A three-story manor with a field of potatoes large enough to match.

Somewhere along the line, Elijah and Victoria had begun arguing over who'd be giving you the materials for your house and just when you thought they'd begun to give it up, Casey joined in- with their arguing getting so loud that your mother had to come in and tell you to keep it down (though she didn't use words as polite as those)

You had to compromise with them, promising that you'd teach them how to build with the materials they'd been trying to give you so that you could prevent the countless murders they'd probably committed had you not stopped them.

'Elijah, that looks like dogshit.'

'Shut up, Vic, yours isn't any better!'

You laugh, and for the first time in a while, it feels genuine. It's almost weird, how long you had to fake laughs, fake smiles so that she'd be happy- but for them, you didn't have to fake anything. They made you happy, they made you want to make _them_ happy, and that was much more welcomed than how she'd wanted you to be _"happy"_

'Let's run off to the woods together,' she'd said one day.

_Don't._

'Somewhere no one can find us,' she had hummed.

_She's trying to isolate you from your loved ones._

'So we can escape this batshit society, you know, love?'

You had nodded along, leaning into her touch though you wanted to run for the hills- run away from her; get as far as you could from her.

Your mother calls out to you from downstairs, Casey and Elijah groaning and whining as you get up from your spot whilst Victoria simply looks up at you sadly, though she turns away the second you notice. You simply wave out to them before disappearing downstairs.

Making your way down the halls, you hear Christmas songs playing off distorted speakers, soft humming joining it somewhere along the way- You find the source of the humming is your father, who's lightly swaying to the music (though whether it's the alcohol or he just _really_ enjoys this song is a mystery to you) whilst your mother dumped the last of her chopped onions into a large steel pot.

'Y/n!' She exclaims, you flinch- whether out of surprise or instinct doesn't seem to matter to her anymore, since she completely ignores it- She's smiling today, and that eases you slightly. 'I've been wanting to talk to you since you got home.'

She places down her chopping board and the knife she'd been using that you had been keeping a watchful eye on as she made her way over to you- she gingerly grabs your hands, though you want to pry them away from her as soon as she takes them in hers.

She rubs her thumb over your knuckle and she smiles up at you. At least all that time with.. _her_ had proven useful, for you were now able to fake smiles fairly easily in your non-disoriented state, 'I want you to know that we love you, okay? And that if you're ever struggling-' she gives your hand a tight squeeze- 'we're always here for you.'

Her smile is genuine, and you assume her worries are too.

But you've gone this long without a mother, so she doesn't get to swoop in- now that you're far older than anyone needs their mother- to take on that role.

She's slightly shorter than you, allowing you to kiss her forehead with ease, 'Thanks, ma. I appreciate it.'

You try to keep it subtle how quickly you try and escape her grasp, planting a quick kiss on your fathers' cheek before disappearing back into your room.

Your siblings sit crowded around Victoria's phone, though she doesn't look pleased at all with them sitting so close to her- from how they're positioned it looks like they'd initially been pushed away but she'd given up.

You can hear the sounds of laughter and someone running on dirt blocks from the phone, so you assume they're watching someone play minecraft- but you're curious and you clear your throat to get their attention.

They look up at you, and you swear there's a glint of pride in their eyes- though it's not like you could see it for any longer than three second before Casey fucking bodyslams you onto your carpeted floor, Elijah following soon after with an unimpressed Victoria remaining on the bed.

'Y/N, ARE YOU FAMOUS NOW?' 'Y/N, YOU HAVE TO INTRODUCE ME TO CAPTAIN SPARKLEZ!' 'Y/N, WAS THAT SALEM IN YOUR VIDEO?' 'Y/N-' 'Y/N-!'

'GUYS,' Victoria shouts, effectively shutting up the two in an instant. You quietly nod in appreciation, but she simply rolls her eyes at you. 'Let them breathe, I don't think they even know.'

'Know what?' You ask, gently sliding out from under the two. Victoria doesn't even try to explain, simply shoving her phone in your face.

It's your most recent video, the one you uploaded five days ago. Victoria's finger remains on screen, pointing to the view count.

5,471,140 views

You stared at it, mouth agape in shock.

You're a small creator, barely 400k subscribers (The last time you checked anyways..) Barely any of your videos ever hit one million views, but it seems you'd struck gold with this last video.

Scrolling down to the comments, you see thousands of people begging for you to stream with Salem and Oakley more often- It'd be exciting if it weren't so damn nerve-racking that so many people knew you existed.

Peering up from the phone, Victoria sits with a satisfied smile and one of the younger ones wrap their arms around you quickly, squeezing you into a tight hug. Another joins you, though their hug is much more gentle. You're too stunned to move against them, but you hear their calls for Victoria to join you three.

She rolls her eyes though a smile gently tugs at her lips.

It's almost peaceful.

Until something breaks.

Tears stream down your face and you collapse to the floor, your siblings following with you- the three of them shift around in confusion, wondering what had happened until they hear your soft whimpers from the middle of the pile.

You're sat on your knees with your palms hiding your face from their view, the three look over at you in shock.

You've never cried in front of them as an adult.

You've never cried in front of them at all, actually.

Desperately trying to snuff out the sobs, you place the sleeve of your shirt over your mouth but it does little to help for it just has you wailing instead.

You almost feel pathetic, like a king lying in the rubbles of a city they'd built from the ground up. If you were still around _her_ she would've made you feel worse, belittle you for crying but instead you're sitting beside your siblings- beside your _family._

Though you are bound by blood, you chose to keep them in your life.

In this moment- the moment they wrap their arms around you comfort you, not speaking a word- is the one where you're grateful that you chose them as your family.

''m sorry, 'm sorry,' You repeat like a broken record. It feels so shameful to cry in front of them- you know they hold high opinions of you but would this completely ruin their view of you?  
  
Of course it wouldn't.

Victoria presses your head into her shoulder, lightly tracing shapes on your back just as she had during the gingerbread house stream from a while back, 'It's okay, Y/n, cry it out.'

You're not sure if the crying is happy or sad at that moment- but what you _are_ happy about is that _she's_ not here to see you in this state.

 _She'll_ never be around again.

You cry into your sister's shoulder for god knows how long whilst she reassures you that it's okay to do so.

* * *

**[ meanwhile, in the discord server 😔✌ ]**

**oakboy:** our baby's all grown up :y/u/n-tear:

 **salury:** idk where you got this "our" baby  
**salury:** i am a single parent

 **oakboy:** LMFAOOOOO 😐  
**oakboy:** gtfoh

 **salury:** 🖕

 **technoblade:** what are we celebrating?

 **oakboy:** techbrro!!

 **salury:** techbro!

 **oakboy:** technbro*  
**oakboy:** techbro**

 **technoblade:** yesyes hallo

 **oakboy:** we're not rlly celebrating  
**oakboy:** might celebrate by like. getting drunk in vc idk lol

 **salury:** if you're going, im not

 **oakboy:** 😐😑😐

 **salury:** LOLL  
**salury:** ok i'll stop joking around now.  
**salury:** but we're celebrating that y/n's new video hit 5 mil views :)

 **technoblade:** y/n?

 **salury:** uh. yeah.  
**salury:** this is literally their server???  
**salury:** you've done multiple streams with them????

 **technoblade:** oh, you mean y/u/n???

 **salury:** did you forget their name???????

 **technoblade:** NO  
**technoblade:** perhaps

 **oakboy:** WHATEVER !!!  
**oakboy:** all that matters is that my child is so so successful and im gonna steal all their clout

 **salury:** LOLSSDOJASDIASKDAS  
**salury:** might i remind u who the people are Begging to see more of y/u/n with??

 **oakboy:** @y/u/n, stream borderlands with me blsssss

 **technoblade:** ooo could i join

 **oakboy:** YES  
**oakboy:** wait have u played before

 **technoblade:** uhhh no

 **oakboy:** sal have u played borderlands before??

 **salury:** why? you tryna take me on a date in borderlands?

 **oakboy:**.  
**oakboy:** we can play with three people, actually

 **technoblade:** LMFAOOOOO

 **salury:** NO WAIT OAKLEY IM SORRY  
**salury:** i haven't played borderlands ok </3

 **oakboy:** and u never will <3

 **salury:** OAKLEY


	7. technoblade.

Techno was nervous.

You were his friend, well as much as someone _can_ be another’s friend on Youtube but he was still afraid that you weren’t going to show.

It’d only been a few days since the two of you had last spoken, but your reputation had changed by a lot during that time. You’d blown up overnight, growing from four hundred thousand subscribers to one million in mere _hours._

He’d congratulated you- of course he had, it was commonplace for creators that frequently worked together to do so- and he was still getting notifications from tons of people, but not a single one of them was the person he _wanted_ to respond.

Not a single one of them was you.

He told himself it was fine- that you were probably busy being a “big youtuber” now, bitterness etched into his mind when it had not been there mere days before. 

It hadn’t consumed him, but _“jealousy”_ ate away at him- infesting any thoughts he’d have of you. Even if he wanted to stop them, he couldn’t- for it was out of his control now.

Because apparently _he_ didn’t warrant the same treatment that your friends Salem and Oakley did when it came to thanks; since he didn’t get a response whilst they did- and as if to rub salt on the wound, you'd said that you could've never done it without them. Which was true, it _is_ true, though Techno doesn't know why it felt so wrong to see you say that to them and not him.

Because _he_ didn’t deserve to have you show up on time, because you always were running late no matter what; never offering up an explanation and leaving Techno irritated until the banter between the two of you started- effectively lighting up the atmosphere and having Techno forget that _you_ had been the one who’d made him irritated in the first place.

It was _your_ fault, all of it.

The way his chest caved in on itself whenever you’d speak; the way his cheeks flushed a deep maroon whenever you’d _“joke”_ about being in a relationship; the way he’d trip over his words trying to impress you, and how he’d almost died when you’d assured him he didn’t need to; the way it was made clear to everyone but the two of you that people loved your dynamic, though the two of you constantly doubted that people enjoyed seeing you interact as much as you _loved_ being around each other; and, sure, when he’d looked at your facecam whilst you were streaming for the first time he’d thought you were attractive but now you seemed to glow in the sunlight, your features being bathed in a golden hue whilst your smile almost had him falling to his knees.

It didn’t matter.

None of the things you did _should’ve_ mattered.

If peoples’ enjoyment of your content with Salem and Oakley was a flame that refused to die out even when fanned and suffocated, Techno couldn’t help but wonder where he stood. Did he even hold a _candlestick_ to them? Would you someday stop making content with Techno all together once he’s no longer useful to you?

The two of you had barely known each other for two months at this point, and of course you two wouldn’t share the same bond you did with Salem and Oakley; two people he’d recently found out had been making videos with you since the very beginning of your channel- not that he went back and binged all of your old videos or anything, just ignore his watch history.

 _It doesn’t matter,_ Techno repeated like a broken record, whether it was true or because he was reassuring himself didn’t matter either. One thing he did know that _“mattered”_ in that moment was that if he thought about it any longer, the tears threatening to spill would soon make their escape and embarrass him in front of people he respected, _That’s just how being a youtuber works,_

You were strangers, you didn’t matter to him.

It wasn’t like he spent the first thirty minutes of the christmas get together pacing around the base that those who’d already arrived had begun to work on, only taking his eyes off his Discord DMS when someone asks him to go mining for gear if they were all going to defeat the ender dragon.

Right. That’s what their goal was- to defeat the ender dragon while chat sabotages them through donations. 

It’d only been made possible because you’d volunteered to stream.

And you were running late.

 _That’s why I’m so nervous,_ Techno rationalises, _It’s because this entire stream relies on them showing up._

Techno had never been good at communication and that only worsened when it came to him trying to understand his _own_ feelings.

 _I’m doing this for charity,_ he reminds himself, _not for them._

He didn’t _want_ you around, especially when he was in this state, but the second he hears your voice- He’s drunk off it. Wound up in _you,_ completely forgetting that he still has to entertain those watching the streams of- he almost laughs at the thought of it- his ‘friends’

Though it became exceedingly clear who was there for _you_ and who was there for charity very quickly, and- surprise, surprise- you were swarmed by people you’d never met before and many more that you’d never even heard of; Techno could barely see you amongst the crowd, though he could pick out the royal mantle that he’d given you days before- he’d be lying if the sight wasn’t one that made his chest swell with pride and his heart melt.

He was stuck at the back of the crowd that had taken it upon themselves to do everything they could get into your good graces and you were playing along- were _you playing along? You just looked happy that someone was talking to you,_ Techno frowned at the thought- and joking around with them as if the group of you had been friends since the dawn of time.

Techno felt small, in that moment.

If he were trampled by the people that were tripping over themselves to get your attention, he wondered if you’d notice; If he was struck by lightning and his body turn to ash, would you notice? Would you notice that he was there, the silence amongst a crowd of those shouting and yelling for your attention.

At that moment, his grip of the pickaxe tightens and it takes all the might he can muster to walk away from the group- for fear of what he might do if he left himself unchecked for long enough to..

Techno shakes his head like he were shaking the unwanted feeling off of him- loosening his grasp on the pickaxe before placing it back in its’ holster, descending down the ladder towards the mineshaft they’d discovered right below their base.

He doesn’t want to be around you after seeing how you hadn’t.. noticed him, despite him not speaking at all and.. not making an effort to get himself noticed.

 _No, no._ Techno shakes his head once more, _His logic isn’t flawed, you should’ve.. seen him._ You would’ve _seen him, if he was really your friend._

Before he lets the trapdoor close on him, he steals a quick glance up at you and sees that you’re smiling and laughing along with them, letting them drag you to wherever they wanted to; you looked happier with _them_ than you ever did around him.

He scowls, though no one can see him.

Then he closes the trapdoor, descending into the mines to take out his misplaced frustration on whichever mobs were so unlucky as to cross his path in that moment.


	8. borderlands.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brrrr techno and y/n moment + the gang is mentioned to be playing borderlands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings ; mention of domestic abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship.
> 
> if those trigger you, please don't read on past the 3rd section cut!
> 
> again, another short chapter. so sorry, i might put out some longer ones soon; but school is starting up again so i might be busy! <3

After spending an hour in the mines, Techno _wanted_ to go back up to the surface.

He wanted to see lights that weren’t from dimmed torches strewn carelessly throughout the cave; he wanted to feel the sun on his face, not arrows piercing his limbs; He wanted to lay in the grass and feel the wind blow through his hair, not the cold breath of the undead whenever they’d graze his skin as the man narrowly avoids death.

He always wants, but he never gives.

No matter how much his father had scolded him for not sharing with his siblings as a child; no matter how many they’d screamed- _and bitched,_ Techno thought bitterly- until he finally handed over whatever they were crying about just to get them to shut up; no matter how many times his parents told him they’d _‘expected better from him’_

So for as much as he _wants_ to spend his days with you, he’d never _give_ you the time of day.

But the group of you had now killed the ender dragon, and all of you had respawned back at the small town you’d all constructed- he’d be _forced_ to talk with you whether he wants to or not. The town had been named after some greek myth as Oakley had suggested to you through donations- which everyone around you had agreed upon immediately, even when you hadn’t thought it wise to do so.

Naming your town after Pandora, the woman who’d unleashed a world of evils upon the moral realm due to her own curiosity, was something you seemed less than pleased about; hell, you seemed _distraught_ at the mere mention of the name, but others around you didn’t seem to notice- or _care_ for that matter.

The stream was to end soon, Techno had pointed out that the town was made of wood- saying that it looked ugly due to the townspeople making it entirely from one material; though Techno hadn’t _planned_ for those words to **spark** the idea of setting the town ablaze, he wasn’t exactly against it. Again, he stood off to the side of everyone- He knew all of them, but you’d been able to blend in with them seamlessly, it almost frightened him how quickly you’d developed bonds with the people around you- but this time his place was next to you.

You didn’t hesitate to move closer to him, not noticing how his cheeks flared a bright pink beneath his mask as you did so; in your arms you held a basket of the flowers you’d managed to salvage- lavenders that had Techno nodding off even though he were a bit away from you- and a cat that you’d taken in after it appeared in your house without much of an explanation.

The cat rubbed against the heel of your boots, practically begging to be picked up; it seemed they’d grown quite attached to you even though you’d had them for barely for a few days at most. The harsh winds blow through your hair effortlessly, and you’re barely able to stand your ground; He’s sure that you would’ve been blown away had it not been for the extra weight of the royal mantle resting atop your shoulders.

With the weight grounding you, you’re able to crouch down to pick up the cat- who he’d later found out was named Epimetheus- but the cat simply jumped into the flower basket; crumpling the lavenders you’d managed to salvage beneath them.

He’d watched, earlier, how desperately you had tried to grab what little lavenders you could before the fire spread to your cabin as well and how the thought of helping you had pulled at his heartstrings; even more so now that what remained of them had been smothered by the underbelly of your cat.

 _Maybe they’d still have some left if you’d helped them,_ a voice yells.

‘This was fun,’ you say, despite the frown on your face.

Techno looks over to you, a hesitant smile forming on his lips.

The skies around him are clouded, smoke growing alarmingly thick as flames dance around the two of you.

They’re nothing new, the blistering heat of the flames are something he’d grown accustomed to after the fourth village he’d burnt to the ground as a teenager- but as he moves beside you, listening to the flames crackle whilst the two of you attempt to navigate your way out of the thick smog he finds a new beauty in the flames that once held him entranced.

Daylight waned, the sun disappearing behind the hills; the light from it that had been reflecting in your eyes had disappeared, now replaced by the flames that surrounded the two of you- like vultures encircling their prey.

Techno’s unsure of how the two of you will escape from the heat hot enough to rival the nethers, but you take hold of his hand- your cat relaxed to the best of it’s ability inside the rocky basket.

‘It was?’ Techno asks, his voice wavering- he’d curse himself for it later, but now you simply nodded.

‘Yeah, It was,’ your laugh was dry, humourless even,

‘Maybe we could do this again.’

Techno’s face set ablaze, heat reaching the tips of his pointed ears; he feels the urge to hide them though he’s sure you can’t see them. The only thing that _could_ give him away is his unsteady voice, so he compromises with himself.

He squeezes your hand, something he’d grown accustomed to doing in previous friendships- the smile that’d been forming earlier had broken into a full-on grin.

‘Maybe we could,’ his voice is small, all confidence he once had now vanishing like it hadn’t existed in the first place.

If only he’d noticed how you had flinched when he’d squeezed your hand.

* * *

You sat at your desk, staring up at your monitor, watching as the circles encasing the profile pictures of Salem and Oakley flickered on and off; indicating that the two were having a conversation, or- unfortunately, in your case- having an argument.

‘ _The second game is_ better _, Oakley!_ ’ Salem argues, you can almost feel her hands waving about as she speaks over the man. ‘ _Better writing, better graphics; just better-!_ ’

‘ _But think about the storyline, Sal!’_ His half-hearted attempt at a point is quickly drowned out as Salem cuts in once more, not allowing the man to get in a single word. You roll your eyes before they flicker down to your keyboard and back to the text channel that’d been left open.

 **Technoblade:** well

Your typing is quick and precise, sending a quick response back to the man.

 **Y/u/n:** WELL

 **Technoblade** : are u mocking me

 **Y/u/n** : Are you Mocking me

 **Technoblade** : what the fuck  
**Technoblade** : stop it

 **Y/u/n** : Look at me. Im A Pig.  
**Y/u/n** : Bedwars is my Major

 **Technoblade** : stop it

 **Y/u/n** : and English is my Minor

 **Technoblade** : stop it  
**Technoblade** : stop it  
**Technoblade** : stop it  
**Technoblade** : stop it  
**Technoblade** : stop it  
**Technoblade** : stop it

 **WRONG** : SHUT UP  
**WRONG** : WTF  
**WRONG:** OAKLEY WHAT   
**WRONG:** DID YOU DO TO MY NN

 **Y/u/n:** LMAOO  
**Y/u/n** : r u two done yet

 **WRONG** : HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  
**WRONG** : FINE  
**WRONG** : which game do YOU two wanna play.

 **Technoblade** : let’s just stick with the first cus it’s already downloaded

 **Y/u/n** : finally

 **WRONG** : SHUT UP

 **Oakboy** : L

You sigh, straightening your recliner and sitting up properly as you mentally prepare yourself for the stream to come.

You greet your chat with a smile plastered on your face as you watch the viewers trickle in, waiting for enough people to show up to explain what you were doing today- giving your viewers the links to your friend’s streams if they’d rather watch their point of views instead, before quickly jumping into it.

* * *

You’d started doing a question and answers whilst the four of you were doing side missions so you wouldn’t fucking die to _Bonehead_ whilst you were just trying to beat the game.

Most of the donations you’d get were about your personal life, asking about your siblings, what your favourite games were, if you had any pets and.. questions about your previous relationship with the streamer PandorasJar; all those things.

 **Y/n-xPandora donated $10!  
****↳** What was it like dating PandorasJar?

You freeze.

There was no easy way to put it.

There was no way to sugarcoat how she'd used you for fame and was still profiting from using your name in her video titles every so often; there was no way to sugarcoat how she'd tried to isolate you from your friends, saying that they'd never understand you like she did; there was no way to sugarcoat how she'd squeeze your hand whenever she thought you were getting too close to someone and would beat you when you returned home.

But you _could_ tell them that in the beginning she’d been kind. You could tell them how she’d kissed your tears away when you opened up to her about how useless you felt, assuring you that you were in control of your own life and that you were allowed to take time to figure it out; You could tell them that she’d comfort you whenever you felt homesick, though you couldn’t speak of how her eyes had went dark when you said you wanted to go see them; You could them that she had loved you at one point.

"It was fine," you hummed, blatantly ignoring how Oakley and Salem had gone silent once the donation had come through, "we just weren't meant for each other,"

But you could not tell them that you had fought tooth and nail to get out.


	9. home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning ; toxic friendship (not very prominent in this chapter, will be over the next three though)
> 
> eh. got sick of the hiatus.
> 
> chapters r gonna be a little slower than usual bc school n shit + im having trouble with motivation atm, sorry.
> 
> again, this chapter is kinda rushed. esp the convo @ the end.
> 
> eh. that's it tbh.

Victoria and EIijah were very.. upfront on their opinions about you returning to your college campus. Victoria claimed she were glad that you were finally leaving, despite the sad glint in her eyes as she helped you pack the things you'd brought home with you into your car just like she had when you'd left the first time; Elijah even suggested that you _fake_ your death in order to stay, saying that you don't have to go back to college.

Your mother swatted them away though, calling the three of you inside so you could have lunch before you started your hours long trip to your campus. The two sped ahead of you, claiming they could smell chicken whilst you trailed behind them, laughing at their actions.

'Y/n,' a small voice calls.

You turn, looking for the source and finally your eyes land on Casey- who's leant against the arch of the living room. They're nervous, fiddling with their hands- their eyes glued to the floor as they speak, 'Can I talk with you? Just.. Just really quickly,'

Your gaze flickers to the dining room- everyone's already seated, chatting away about whatever came to their mind and how their days were going- they wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, right?

Nodding softly, you follow Casey into the living room- who urges you to sit down on one of the arm chairs before promptly sitting on one of the beanbags.

They open their mouth to speak, but it's like they're at a loss for words- anything that sounds vaguely human comes out as unintelligible and forcing themself to speak only resulted in something resembling a croak.

Then comes an almost fragile question, like they were worried they shake the house down if their voice got any louder,

'You don't have to go right?'

You quirk an eyebrow at them, but their gaze still remains on the floor.

'Wha- Casey, of course I _have_ to go, it's-'

'What about your whole streaming thing?' they cut in, not giving you a moment to speak, 'Isn't that safer than college?'

You snort at the idea, ignoring how you'd stayed up late nights earlier taking everything into account; yeah, you loved playing video games with your friends, but could you really remain entertaining for the _rest_ of your life? The idea felt daunting,

which was why you'd turned it down.

'College _is_ safer for me, Casey,' you know they're being unreasonable, they'd done this a million times before when they tried to persuade you from going to club activities during high school so you'd.. what, stay home with them? Even when they _did_ manage to have you stay home, the two of you simply sat in silence in the living room.

They seemed at peace, though you wanted nothing more than to get out and do.. something; _Anything_ , at that point.

You never quite understood why they wanted you to stay home just so the two of you could do nothing; so when you were younger, the two of you had a rift between you, one that could _easily_ be fixed.

If you had put in the effort.

'But think about-!'

But you sure as hell weren't going to start now.

'Casey, I'm not going to argue with you on this,' you say bluntly, forcing yourself to look at them directly. 'I'm going back to college, alright? I don't know _why_ you care so much in the first place-'

'If you'd just _listen_ to me-!' Casey knew it was useless to try and argue with you, they'd learnt it many years ago when you'd simply started brushing them off no matter the subject.

When they were a kid you'd scowl whenever they'd ask a "stupid question" in your eyes, but you'd answered _Elijah's_ without hesitation; When they were a kid they'd had to wait years to even sit in the same room as you and Victoria while you played boardgames, but _Elijah_ was allowed to sit in there while the three of you played games almost immediately after he was born; When they were a kid you didn't spare them a second glance because Elijah was your favourite, even if they knew you'd never admit it.

At first, they'd tried to grow the same bond that you and Elijah had with Victoria, but she wasn't _you._ She was loud, outspoken and downright mean at some points, but she was Victoria; she was the same person who'd hold Casey whenever they were on the brink of tears, just like you used to; she was the same person who'd made fun of her without a second thought, but then again she'd do that with anyone; she was Victoria, and you were Y/n.

'I don't want to listen, Casey! I've heard enough!'

They watched as you left the living room through blurry eyes, just as they always _watched-_ never daring to interfere. They watched as your mother held you close, saying that you'd always be welcomed home with open arms while they shrunk before the idea of not graduating high school, the idea that whilst your mother would look up at them with adoring eyes now, they'd one day grow cold and bitter, just as they had when they were a child.

The idea of them letting everyone down- to the point that they'd one day be held to the same standards as _you-_ haunted them almost as much as the bitterness that they couldn't help but give in to whenever you were happy.

'Now, you come home whenever you need to,' your mother held your face in her palm like she were afraid you'd shatter, 'And remember to call us at least once every two weeks-'

'I know, Ma-' You cut in, but she simply raises her voice.

'And if you ever need to come _home,_ ' She shoots an upset glare at you, making you shrink backwards as Casey feels their long suppressed pride bubble to the surface, barely able to be contained, 'we'll be right here for you, okay?'

Your tense expression softens, wrapping your arms around your mother and hiding your face in her shoulder; the woman simply sighs, cradling you in her arms as if nothing had changed since you were born.

She whispers something into your ear, it irritates Casey that they can't hear it too.

You squeeze your mother briskly before pulling away, waving to your family before ducking into your car without another word; Elijah flails his arms about as Victoria gave you a plain wave, the two of them yelling out a string of goodbyes and unintelligible words that mean little to Casey but probably mean the world to the three of you.

Ignoring how their fists clenched and instead turning their attention to their siblings were running down the street, barreling after you and continuing their rampage until you honked your horn before turning the corner; completely leaving their sight.

You raised Casey too, even if they'd never admit it to anyone.

I guess it was just too difficult for you to raise them with the same amount of love you'd poured into Elijah though.

─────

Tapping your feet to the sounds of the stereo, you hum wordless songs as you cruise through the gorge. Pieces of paper scattered along the car floor, needless clutter filling the backseats with a stray photo slipping out from under the boxes. There's a sickly sweet scent filling your car, your sister had given you an air freshener but needless to say... it suffocated you more than it actually smelt good.

You didn't mind, especially not when this had to be the most as peace you'd felt for the entirety of your winter break. Dusk engulfs the skies in an orange hue, light peaking onto the your blanket draped over your legs. Though your eyes were on the road, your mind wandered to daydreams of being bundled up in blankets upon blankets, a dazed smile on your face as you sit with your friends, speaking- more like _arguing-_ about whatever twelve episode netflix show you'd binged overnight.

Softly smiling, you take in your surroundings; Trees go on for as long as the eye can see, it's almost frightening how long you hadn't seen the sun beyond its gentle kisses upon your blanket. Inhaling deeply, you look back up at the road; trying to rationalise the situation to yourself. The gorge only continued a little while longer, the road were not to swallow you whole on your way there and the trees scattered along the roadside weren't conspiring against you, muttering harsh words as you drove.

A song you'd never heard before pops up on your spotify, 'Maybe I was boring' spotify tells you as your lock screen flares up, welcoming you to change the song.

Then your phone starts vibrating, almost falling off your dashboard; you reach for it in a haste, cringing inwardly as you thought about how your mother would've scolded you for such a reckless thing though the feeling fades away almost immediately when your gaze lands on who'd called you.

_Stacy._

Answering the call and returning the phone to its place on the dashboard, you hear shuffling and hushed whispers on the other end of the phone before someone's voice finally pipes up.

It's coarse, not anything like Stacy's voice, 'Hey, Bestie!'

'...Who is this?'

They erupt in laughter, feeling the tips of your ears flush red as the urge to hide yourself from the world overrides your thoughts.

'Y/n, it's me! Stacy!' You can hear the grin in her voice with some lingering giggles beside her, 'I'm hurt you couldn't tell!'

You roll your eyes, irritated by this interaction already. You just wanted to have a relaxing ride through the country without anyone bothering you during this time, 'Why'd you call? I said I was going to be more focused on the road than anything-'

'Oh, you've already left?' She asks, unable to hide her excitement; whether she wants to see _you_ or use you for your money an entirely different story, 'Why didn't you text us?'

'Because I didn't have to?' You narrowed your eyes at the phone, though you know everything you're saying is going in through one ear and out the other.

'But you did!' Stacy whines, her scratchy voice irritates your ears almost as much as the conversation currently irritates you, 'You promised that you'd text before you left home- you said so right before you left!'

They hadn't been there when you left, had they?

You don't voice the thought aloud, only replying with a drawn out, 'Ri-ghht,'

'Whatever!' Stacy hums, 'I'm just glad our designated driver's back.'

Your knuckles turn white as your grip on the steering wheel tightens, your focus on the road is almost completely lost in that moment; though you know that's what you've always been to them, but of course, you're the designated driver _after_ you're their friend, right?

 _that's all you are to them,_ an unwanted voice whispers, _the designated driver,_

'Mmhmm,' you follow along though your heart pangs with sorrow, 'That's all I am right, the designated driver?'

The question comes off with as much venom as you'd like, but Stacy doesn't seem to bat an eye, 'Duh.'

Everyone goes silent.

Once again, the atmosphere is engulfed in laughter as Stacy and another lose it over your "stunned silence" whilst a deeper, low voice crackles through the static, 'You're so serious, Y/n!'

'How _do_ you three deal with it.' You deadpan, your voice dripping with sarcasm as the person- Tyler, you reminded yourself- continued on.

'I know right?' He says triumphantly, 'We deserve a medal don't we, girls?'

There's a mutter of agreement in the background, anything the two of them say coming out as unintelligible through the phone; they're adding on things you can't hear, with Tyler laughing at their jokes whilst you can't help but feel left out of the conversation.

'You really should,' you hum, 'I'll make one when I get home.'

Home. It's a funny thing, really.

Considering that you'd just left your childhood _home_ with your adoring family surrounding you and lifting you up every step of the way versus what you were driving back to, it'd probably be weird to consider these people that you've barely known for a year closer than your family but.. the idea of home being a corporeal place is something you'd learnt wasn't necessarily true.

Your home has been many things. the house you'd just left was once your home; the youtube channel that had blown up over night was once your home; your childhood friends had once been your home; and _now_ your home is 'where the heart is'-

'You're a doll, Y/n,' Tyler purrs, you can almost feel his shit-eating grin through the phone.

\- and god if your heart isn't with the three of them.

'Alright, I'll call you back later-'

Another voice cuts in, sharper _and_ louder than the others, 'Whaaaat? You don't wanna talk to us on your way _home_ , Y/n?'

'I wanna focus on the road, Morgan,' you say whilst your freehand moves off the steering wheel, hovering over the "end call" button- waiting for your hand to steady so you'd be able to quickly leave without much of a fuss-

'You're not being a good friend right now, Y/n.'

Your hand flinches away from the phone in an instant, returning to its place on the steering wheel.

'Yeah, yeah, I was only joking Morgan,' you hum, 'I'm such a _great friend,_ aren't I?'

Said less as a joke, more as a question to yourself.

'You really are, Y/n!'


End file.
